


The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era

by ariminiria



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, Background Oreius/Original Centaur Character, Background Oreius/Original Character, Background Oreius/Original Female Character, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Magic, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, i'm just making up star names like a madwoman, in my defense the Narnia wiki only named like four stars tho so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 87,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariminiria/pseuds/ariminiria
Summary: Five Royals ruled over Narnia, crowned by Aslan himself. Their story is legend throughout all the land. A great detail of note is that these Kings and Queens are from another world. The fifth is even more odd - for she came from the same world as the others, but from an entirely different century.When this small family is separated by time, it seems unlikely that they will ever meet again. But, Aslan's will is a tricky thing. Will the five be able to cope in this new Narnia, when everything they knew has gone, and a Telmarine Prince makes a bid for the throne?(There is an image in the first chapter, a header for the story.)
Relationships: Caspian (Narnia) & Reader, Caspian (Narnia)/Original Female Character(s), Caspian (Narnia)/Reader, caspian/you
Comments: 153
Kudos: 225





	1. A Curious Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this got kind of long lol. Oops? Ah well. Anyways…. Enjoy!

In what had recently come to be known as the Golden Age of Narnia, five royals ruled the land from Cair Paravel. It may seem unusual, yes, but Narnia was anything but ordinary. The four Pevensies were ever so glad to have met the fifth of their band, (Y/N) (L/N). All of Narnia adored her, and she helped to keep the four siblings in check as they ruled justly and fairly over their people. The royals of Narnia were special, you see, for they came from another world. (Y/N) was even more unique, for not only was she from the same world as the Pevensies, she came from the future.

The great Aslan himself had called together these Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, reaching through time and to fulfill the prophecy. For the evil of Jadis, the White Witch, could only have been foiled by these five.

Lucy had been the first to meet (Y/N), as well as the first of her siblings to discover Narnia. Though for all of them, memories of their world faded as they grew, Lucy often looked back fondly on the day she met her family’s closest friend.

* * *

Lucy Pevensie’s life had changed in the blink of an eye. One night, she was huddled in a bomb shelter with her family, and the next, she and her three siblings had been loaded onto a train and shipped away to a stranger’s house, there to stay until the war ended. Who knew how long that would be, though… There had been a glimmer of hope that first night. Peter was always so wonderful about trying to keep her spirits high, but despite his promises that the next day would be better, it turned out to be anything but.

Rain poured down from the sky, trapping the four children inside for the day, where The Macready would certainly appear to spoil any fun they tried to have, terrible terror that she was.

“Gastro...vascular,” Susan read out. It was her and Peter’s attempt at a game. One of them would pick a word from the thick encyclopedia, and the other would attempt at guessing its meaning.

“Come on, Peter, _gastrovascular_ ,” she prompted again after receiving no response.

Peter heaved a great sigh and turned his head to face her. “Is it Latin?” he asked boredly.

Susan checked the book. “Yes.”

“Is it Latin for “worst game ever invented”?” Edmund said, sitting up from where he had been sprawled out on the floor. The boredom seemed to be infecting him as well, though he portrayed it as irritation.

Susan gave him a scowl, but sammed the book shut. It seemed she couldn’t argue with that. The game _was_ rather rotten.

Lucy suddenly perked up, a brilliant thought coming to mind. She stood from her perch on the window seat, coming over beside the arm of Peter’s plush chair.

“We could play hide and seek!” she suggested, focusing her plea on her oldest brother.

Peter raised his eyebrows, and then said to her and Susan, “But we’re already having _so much_ fun…”

Susan huffed slightly at his antics.

Lucy pouted, knowing he was teasing her. “Come on Peter, _please_?” She grabbed his hand, giving him the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster. “ _Pretty_ please?”

Peter slowly grinned.

“One… two… three… four…” he began.

Lucy burst into a bright smile.

“What?” Edmund demanded, but still, he and Susan got to their feet, eager to play along - though they would have denied it had anyone asked.

Lucy waited until Peter had leaned against the wall with his eyes covered, then she slipped through the nearest door and took off running.The first door she came upon, she quickly recognized as the Professor’s study. That certainly wouldn’t do. She went across the platform to the other set of stairs, searching for the perfect spot. Just then, she noticed a nice, curtained-off nook, and made her way towards it. As she reached out to pull the fabric aside, she found herself abruptly shoved aside.

“I was here first!” Edmund declared, though he really hadn’t been.

Lucy scowled at him, but there was no time to argue. Peter could be heard counting higher and higher, closer to that dreaded one hundred, so Lucy ran off with a huff to find something else. The first door she tried wouldn’t budge, but she rushed on to the second, undeterred.

What she found inside made her pause. The little room was completely empty, entirely bare, except for one stool by the window and a lone, sheet-covered object at the far wall. Something about it called to her. Slowly, Lucy shut the door behind her and walked over to whatever it was. The rain poured on outside, and the noise of a lone fly provided the only accompanying sound. Lucy gently took hold of the sheet and pulled it aside. The fabric bunched together, billowing like a liquid curtain, and fell to the side, slipping down to the ground to reveal a beautiful wardrobe.

Lucy reached for the beautifully crafted handle, just under a magnificent carving of a strange kind of tree. When she opened the door, several mothballs rolled out.

The echoes of her brother’s counting spurred her to action, and she slipped inside the wardrobe. Peeking out to ensure she hadn’t been followed, Lucy grinned. Of course, she was certain not to shut the door all the way, lest it latch and she be trapped inside. Closing oneself into a wardrobe would be most foolish indeed, so to be certain no one would see her through the little crack, Lucy slowly moved to the rear of the wardrobe, her hands stretched out behind her to feel for the wooden backing.

Further and further she went, but still, the wall of the wardrobe did not greet her touch. In fact--

“Oh!” she gasped suddenly, as something cold, wet, and… prickly? Yes, prickly, touched her hand. Slowly, Lucy turned around, greeted by a most wonderful sight. Rather than the dimly lit back of a wardrobe, a bright, snowy land sprawled out before her. It seemed so impossible, and yet… Just to be certain, she looked back to where she’d come from. She could see the door of the wardrobe, opened ever-so-slightly. It couldn’t have been that the wardrobe somehow opened to the outside of the Professor’s mansion, for Lucy had only just moments ago seen through the windows how hard the rain fell. Not to mention, it was summer, not winter.

Tentatively, her feet led her further in. With a heart full of wonder and excitement, she reached out to capture a few falling flakes from the sky. Lucy continued along, pausing only to make certain that the wardrobe entrance still remained. When she turned to keep walking, suddenly, she collided with someone.

“Oh!” came a voice. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even see you there!”

Lucy looked to see who had spoken. There before her stood a girl who looked to be about Edmund’s age.

“Who are you?” Lucy asked. “How did you get here?”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” the girl replied, “I came here through a wardrobe.”

Lucy tilted her head.

“The wardrobe in the Professor’s spare room?” she asked curiously. “But then why haven’t I seen you around?” Surely the Macready would have introduced her to them all, if the Professor had taken on another child seeking refuge from the war.

But (Y/N) seemed confused.

“The who?” She shook her head. “No, I mean the wardrobe in my grandmother’s house. That one time I asked, she said it was left to her by some old guy. I was just exploring. I wanted to see what was inside, and next thing I knew, I came out into this forest.”

Lucy thought it very odd, the way this girl spoke. She must have been from somewhere well outside of Finchley.

“How did you get here, then?” (Y/N) asked. “Surely you weren’t in my grandmother’s house?”

“No,” Lucy said, “I must have come through a different wardrobe.” Just then, Lucy noticed (Y/N)’s curious clothes. “What are you wearing?” she asked in surprise.

(Y/N) frowned and looked down at herself.

“What do you mean?”

Lucy pointed to her legs, only halfway covered in some odd, blue material.

“You’re in such short trousers! And your shoes are so funny…” And, her shirt was very odd as well. It had long sleeves, but then there seemed to be another kind of shirt (perhaps a night shirt?) over top of it as well, with very thin straps at the top keeping it up.

(Y/N) seemed greatly confused.

“But why shouldn’t I be dressed this way? It’s summertime.”

Lucy snorted just a little. She wasn’t being unkind, she simply thought it odd. “But trousers are for boys, and perhaps ladies in the army who are helping with the war.”

“Dresses are for grown-up ladies at fancy events,” (Y/N) said back. “I don’t really like wearing skirts… ” Just then, she paused. “What do you mean by “helping with the war”? What war?”

Lucy stared in disbelief.

“Why… _the_ war. The war that’s happening right now!”

(Y/N) shook her head, almost laughing.

“But Lucy, there’s no…” Suddenly, she trailed off in thought, looking a Lucy more carefully, taking in everything about her. “Hey, Lucy, what year is it for you?”

Lucy giggled a little. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N), it’s 1940!”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide. “Not for me, it isn’t! I’m all the way from the twenty-first century!” She gasped a little. “You’re from World War II!”

“What if…” Lucy said, looking thoughtful, “What if we came through the same wardrobe, just at different times? Me in the present, and you in the future?”

That brought a grin from her new friend.

“I think you mean _me_ in the present and _you_ in the _past_!” (Y/N) giggled, sending both girls into a fit of laughter.

“This is so crazy!” (Y/N) finally said. “It has to be magic.”

Lucy grinned and grabbed her hand. “Come on then, we ought to explore together! And you can tell me all about the future.”

(Y/N) grinned back at her, following the younger girl’s lead.

Not far ahead, a yellow light glowed. As the girls moved closer to the clearing, they soon realized the source of the light.

“A lamppost,” Lucy whispered, walking over to it with (Y/N) close by her side.

“It’s so pretty…” (Y/N) said, reaching out to touch it at just the same time as Lucy. Both girls giggled a little, and looked around closer at the lamppost. It seemed so out of place in the wonderful forest. Everything around them was natural and wild, but just there, in this place, a single solitary mark of their world - or at least, their world in Lucy’s time - stood in stark contrast to all else.

Suddenly, a rustle in the nearby foliage drew their attention. Something was moving. The two girls looked around cautiously, Lucy gripping (Y/N)’s hand tightly. There! Over to the side, they spotted a dash of red against the white and brown, moving ever closer towards them…

(Y/N) put Lucy behind her, feeling responsible as the older one, looking round wildly for the thing. Suddenly, the figure burst into the clearing and both girls screamed. The man who’d stumbled upon them screamed in surprise as well, dropping a collection of parcels all along into the snow. The girls tried to hide them behind the tiny lamppost, as if that would do any good, and the man darted around behind a tree.

For a moment, a crisp silence hung in the air. Lucy and (Y/N) slowly peered out from behind the pole, and the man peered out from behind the tree at the same time, quickly darting back behind when he spotted them.

Before (Y/N) could stop her, Lucy slipped towards the packages on the ground. It didn’t seem as though the man were a threat, so slowly, (Y/N) followed, stooping to pick up a package, while Lucy picked up the other. After all, they had scared this poor stranger, so it only felt right to them to help him pick up his things.

“Uh- ah-” the stranger spluttered, motioning at them with his umbrella. As he came out from behind the tree, the two girls suddenly realized that he wasn’t a man at all… Of course, he looked like a man from the waist up, but below, he had a set of furry legs, complete with a pair of hooves.

Lucy handed him the first package.

“Were you hiding from _us_?” she asked softly.

Tentatively, the strange creature took the package from her, then, with a little more confidence, he accepted the one from (Y/N), before bending to gather the rest of his things.

“Well- no…” he stammered. “Uh, well- I just- I-I… No, no, I-I-I just… I was just, um, I didn’t want to scare you,” he finally managed with a nervous smile.

Lucy gave a little laugh, then paused. “If you don’t mind my asking… what are you?”

“Well I’m a-” He chuckled in confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why she might ask. “Well I’m a faun! And what about the pair of you? You must be some kind of… beardless dwarves?”

Lucy scoffed indignantly, and (Y/N) shook her head with a giggle.

“No way!” (Y/N) said.

“I’m not a dwarf!” Lucy declared. “I’m a _girl_! And so’s (Y/N).” There was an odd look on the faun’s face, but neither girl noticed, as they helped to collect the rest of his scattered belongings. “And actually,” Lucy continued proudly, “I’m _tallest_ in my class.”

“You mean to say,” the faun began with a nervous chuckle, “That you two are Daughters of Eve?”

Lucy looked just as confused as (Y/N) felt. “Well… my mum’s name is Helen…”

“Yes,” said the faun, “But… you are, in fact… human?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) replied, “Of course we are…”

The faun quickly glanced around. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Lucy began, “I was hiding in the wardrobe in the spare room, and it must have been the same wardrobe as (Y/N) was exploring in the future--”

“Spare Oom?” the faun asked, looking very confused, “Is that in Narnia?”

“Narnia?” (Y/N) asked. “What’s that?”

The faun chuckled once more, though it seemed he was beginning to relax around the two of them.

“Well, my dear girls, you’re in it! Everything, from the lamppost-” Here, he began to gesture with his umbrella. “-all the way to Castle Cair Paravel on the Eastern Ocean! Every stick and stone you see, every icicle… is Narnia.”

(Y/N) and Lucy followed the tip of his umbrella to gaze at a beautiful castle off in the distance, perched upon a hill.

“This is an awfully big a wardrobe,” (Y/N) whispered to Lucy.

“War Drobe?” the faun whispered from behind them, before raising his voice to address them once more. “I’m sorry, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tumnus.” He bowed his head ever so slightly.

“Pleased to meet you, Mister Tumnus!” Lucy said cheerily. “I’m Lucy Pevensie.”

It was at that precise moment (Y/N) realized she hadn’t asked for her new friend’s name earlier. At least she knew now.

Lucy held her hand out to Mister Tumnus, and he stared at it curiously.

“Oh, you shake it,” she explained.

“Uh… Why?” he laughed.

Lucy paused. “I… I don’t know! People do it when they meet it each other.”

“Mostly adults,” (Y/N) added with a giggle. “I think it’s s’posed to be sophisticated.”

Tumnus scoffed softly, but took Lucy’s small hand in his, swinging it gently back and forth. The two of them laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, and then the faun turned to (Y/N).

“(Y/N) (L/N),” she said, happily grabbing his hand next for a “handshake”.

“Well, then, Lucy Pevensie and (Y/N) (L/N) from the _shining_ city of War Drobe in the _wondrous_ land of Spare Oom, how would it be if the two of you came and had tea with me?”

“Well thank you very much!” Lucy said, clearly touched at his offer. “But I… I probably should be getting back.”

“Oh Lucy,” (Y/N) said, “Please come with me! My grandmother is watching her soap opera, she won’t even notice I’m gone. It won’t be the same without you.”

“It’s only just around the corner,” Mister Tumnus said agreeably. “And there’ll be a glorious fire, with… with toast and… and tea and cakes. And _perhaps_ ,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “We’ll even break into the sardines…”

“I don’t know…” Lucy said indecisively, looking between her two new friends.

“Come on,” Tumnus pleaded. “It’s not every day I get to make a new friend, much less two.”

“And how often do you meet someone from the future?” (Y/N) chimed in.

Lucy finally relented with a smile. “Well, I suppose I could come for a little while… If you have sardines…” She picked up the last parcel still on the ground and took Mister Tumnus’ arm.

(Y/N) grinned brightly and joined Mister Tumnus at his other side.

“By the bucketload,” he said.

“I’ve never had sardines before…” (Y/N) said as Tumnus lead them away from the lamppost. “Are they any good?”

“Never had sardines? Tumnus exclaimed. “Why we must remedy that at once!”

“I just know you’ll love them,” Lucy added.

The three of them laughed and conversed merrily as Tumnus showed them the path to his home. Soon enough, a little door came into sight, a beautiful little thing, built into the side of a cliff.

“Here we are!” Tumnus said. “Come along.” He stepped up and opened the little door for them all. “After you,” he said, gesturing the girls inside.

“May I help you with that?” (Y/N) asked, noticing he was still balancing two parcels and his umbrella. Since she hadn’t carried anything here, she rather thought she might help him to get inside.

“Thank you very much,” Tumnus said with a smile, handing her his things so that he could dust the snow from the umbrella.

Lucy and (Y/N) went inside the cozy little home, looking around in awe. There were a set of stairs to the right that lead somewhere unseen. Both girls set their packages aside to look at a pair of portraits on a small side table. Neither of them noticed Tumnus locking the door… or hiding the key.

“Ah,” he said, pointing to the portrait Lucy held, “Now that… that is my father.”

“He has a nice face,” Lucy said kindly.

“He looks a lot like you,” (Y/N) remarked as well.

“No…” Tumnus murmured. “No,I’m not very much like him at all, really.”

“My father’s fighting in the war,” Lucy said.

“Mine died when I was just a kid,” (Y/N) barely whispered.

Tumnus look over at them suddenly, a sadness, but a spark of life there in his eyes.

“My father went away to war, too,” he said. “But that was long, long time ago… before this dreadful winter.”

“Winter’s not all bad,” Lucy said, moving over to explore the bookshelves. “There’s ice skating… and snowball fights…”

“And sledding,” (Y/N) added cheerily looking at another bookshelf across the room.

“Oh, and Christmas!” Lucy said brightly.

But Tumnus shook his head. “Not here,” he said, bringing a tray full of food over the the three cozy chairs just in front of the fireplace. “No. No, we haven’t had a Christmas in a hundred years.” With a flourish, he removed the cover from the food and sat in his seat.

“What?” Lucy asked in disbelief. “No presents for a hundred years?”

“Always winter, never Christmas. It’s been a long winter…” As (Y/N) and Lucy settled into their seats, Tumnus handed each of them a cup of tea. “But you both would have loved Narnia in summer,” he said wistfully. “We fauns danced with the dryads all night,” he told them, while pouring a dash of cream into their teas til they told him when. “And you know, we… we never got tired. And music, oh, such _music_!” He paused, looking at them carefully. “Would… would you like to hear some now?”

The two girls looked at each other, then grinned.

“Yes please,” (Y/N) said, sipping from her tea.

Tumnus smiled kindly and reached over the mantle. He picked up a box, from which he withdrew an odd, forked pipe.

“Now, are either of you familiar with any Narnian lullabies?” he asked.

“Sorry, no,” Lucy said.

“Me neither,” (Y/N) said.

“Well that’s good!” Tumnus replied. “Because _this_ … probably won’t sound anything like one. With that, he cleared his throat and brought the instrument to his lips. A delicate tune began to fill the air, like nothing either of the girls had ever heard before.

It must have been magic, because shapes began to appear in the fire. When Lucy looked to Mister Tumnus, he wasn’t at all concerned about it, so she and (Y/N) continued to watch. In the flames, there came the sounds of horses’ hooves and laughter. Miniature fauns appeared, just as Mister Tumnus had described to them, dancing in a great circle with a number of other creatures.

(Y/N) felt her eyes grow heavy, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucy’s teacup crash to the ground. She tried to fight the odd, heavy feeling, but found it was no use. Sleep overcame her, and the last thing she knew was a flash of firelight and the roar of a mighty lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to let me know what you think! Feedback makes all the difference.


	2. Narnia, Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 3,500 word piece… What can I say? I’m really passionate about Narnia.

When (Y/N) awoke, the fire had gone out, and not a single candle in the little house remained alight. Slowly, she rose to her feet, looking around for Mister Tumnus, who had disappeared. Beside her, Lucy slowly stirred.

“Lucy,” (Y/N) whispered, catching her attention.

“What’s going on?” Lucy whispered back. Just then, she caught sight of the daylight - rather, lack thereof - out the window. “Oh, I should go…”

(Y/N) followed her gaze and gasped. “My grandmother is going to be so upset with me… I’d better get back too.”

“It’s too late for that now,” came the shaky voice of Mister Tumnus. The two girls found him huddled over on the steps in front of his desk. “I’m such a terrible faun…”

(Y/N) came over to kneel in front of him, but he very nearly flinched at her close proximity.

“Mister Tumnus, that’s not true at all! You’re not terrible.”

Lucy slowly stood from her chair and came over to them as well.

“Oh, no,” Lucy said, “You’re the nicest faun I’ve ever met!”

Tumnus gave them a watery smile and shook his head.

“Then I’m afraid you both have had a very poor sampling…”

“No,” Lucy said resolutely. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and leaned past (Y/N) to press it into Mister Tumnus’ hand. “You can’t have done anything _that_ bad.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s really something silly that you’re overthinking.”

“It’s not something I _have_ done, Lucy Pevensie and (Y/N) (L/N)... It’s something I am doing.”

(Y/N) suddenly became aware of an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She took up Lucy’s hand in her own, ready to whisk the younger girl away at the first sign of danger.

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked.

Shamefully, Tumnus looked up at them and whispered, “I’m kidnapping you.”

Lucy gave a soft gasp, and (Y/N) pulled her close.

“It was the White Witch!” Tumnus said through his tears, “She’s the one who makes it always winter, always cold. She gave orders… If any of us ever find a human wandering in the woods, w-we-we… we’re supposed to turn it over to _her_.”

“But Mister Tumnus, you wouldn’t…”

“You’re not really going to give her what she wants, are you?” (Y/N) asked, watching his every move.

“I thought you were our friend…” Lucy whispered sadly.

At that, Mister Tumnus looked up at them, a new fire in his eyes.

“Yes,” he said resolutely. “Yes, I am. And now I know what must be done. Come, girls. We must steal you away, back to Lantern Waste, before the Queen finds you.”

He stood, offering one of his hands to each of them. (Y/N) very nearly didn’t take it, for she was not so trusting as dear Lucy, but that nasty feeling she’d had had somehow been replaced by a flicker of warmth… a spark of hope, and determination. Something in her heart told her that Tumnus was true.

Swiftly, Tumnus guided the two girls out the door, leading them nimbly through the forest. Poor Lucy had a more difficult time keeping up, but Mister Tumnus never allowed her to stumble.

“Now,” he said quickly, “She may already know you’re here. The woods are full of her spies.” The trio slid down a small slope, and Tumnus gave a wary glance around them. “Even some of the trees are on her side!”

Faster they went, the icy wind biting at their faces and hands, all the while keeping a wary eye out for spies of the Witch. Finally, they arrived back at the lamppost, its soft, orange glow providing some comfort in the void of wintry darkness.

“Can you find you way back from here?” he asked them urgently.

“Yes!”

“I think so…”

“Alright.”

Tumnus brought them to a halt, looking around carefully.

“What about you?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yes,” Lucy chimed in, “Will you be alright?”

Tumnus gave a soft laugh, dabbing at his eyes with the handkerchief once more.

“Hey, hey, hey…”

“Oh Mister Tumnus, it’s okay…”

Lucy and (Y/N) both did their best to comfort him. He held each of their hands tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so sorry…” He gave them both a long, steady look, then pressed the tiny, cloth square back into Lucy’s hand. “Here…”

But, she shook her head, nudging it back to him. “Keep it,” she insisted. “You need it more than I do.” She nearly laughed, but then the somber circumstances caught up to her once more.

(Y/N) put her free arm around the younger girl, trying to comfort her.

Tumnus smiled solemnly. “No matter what happens… Lucy Pevensie, (Y/N) (L/N), I am glad to have met you both. You’ve made me feel warmer than I’ve felt in a hundred years.”

He gently tapped Lucy’s nose and gave them one last, sad smile.

“Now go. Go!”

“Goodbye, Mister Tumnus,” (Y/N) whispered softly, before she and Lucy took off running, hand in hand, back towards the wardrobe entrance.

“Is this the same way you came?” Lucy asked her quietly, still wary of the trees.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said. Then, she paused, just in front of the right cluster of branches. “But I don’t know if it’ll work if we both try to get back at once. You’d better go first.”

“What? But what if something happens to you?” Lucy asked worriedly.

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’ll be fine. The Witch isn’t going to find me in ten seconds. That’s as long as I’ll wait to go, I promise.”

Lucy thought it over unhappily, then finally nodded. (Y/N) squeezed her hand one last time before she let go, and Lucy suddenly flung her arms around her middle in a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you, (Y/N),” she said.

“I’ll miss you too, Lucy…” (Y/N) said. “I’ll try to get in again soon, to see you and Mister Tumnus again, okay?”

Lucy nodded, then turned to walk through to the other world, pausing one last time where coats met branches to give her new friend from the future one last wave, then, she darted away, leaving Narnia behind.

She fell from the wardrobe with a thud, landing heavily on her knees. In fact, Lucy was in such a hurry that she didn’t even hear Peter counting the final two numbers off in the distance. No, in her mind, all she could think of was how worried they all must be that she had vanished!

Quickly, she rushed from the little room, down the stairs and into the hallway where Edmund had shoved her out of the way. That felt like so long ago, she could hardly even muster the strength to be mad about the whole incident now.

“It’s all right!” she called out. “I’m back! I’m all right!”

Edmund poked his head out from the curtains to glare at her sourly.

“Shut up, he’s coming!” he hissed.

What? They couldn’t possibly _still_ be playing hide and seek after all this time, could they?

Just then, Peter rounded the corner, spotting the pair of them. His expression went from playful to confused. Edmund huffed and stepped out of the nook.

“You know, I’m not sure the two of you have quite got the idea of this game,” he said, in that infuriating eldest-brother way.

“Weren’t you wondering where I was?” Lucy asked incredulously.

“That’s the _point_ ,” Edmund said, rather condescendingly. “That’s why he was seeking you!”

Susan, hearing all the commotion, left her hiding spot and came up to the three.

“Does this mean I win?” she asked.

“I don’t think Lucy wants to play anymore,” Peter told her.

“I’ve been… gone for hours!” Lucy said.

That finally shut them all up. She certainly had their attention now.

“What do you mean, “gone for hours”, Lu?” Susan asked. “It’s only been since Peter started counting.”

“Not for me, it wasn’t,” Lucy insisted. “It must be the Magic… I went to hide in the wardrobe up in the spare room, you see, but when I went inside, I found a great big snowy land! And I met a girl from the future called (Y/N) (L/N) who came through the same wardrobe! Not the Professor’s wardrobe, you see, it was a wardrobe in her grandmother’s house, but when she described it, it was the exact same with all the carvings and everything. And the two of us went and had tea with a faun named Mister Tumnus! Then he played--”

“Slow down, Lucy!” Peter finally said, cutting off her high-speed ramble. “Why don’t you show us this wardrobe…”

Lucy smiled brightly and rushed off to the room, not noticing the skeptical glance that passed between the two eldest siblings.

They all went into the room, and Peter, Susan, and Edmund began to inspect the wardrobe, while Lucy stood to the side, waiting eagerly for one of them to gasp in amazement as they came across the beauty of Narnia. But no such thing occurred. When Susan pushed aside all the coats, even Lucy could see that there were no snowy trees there.

“Lucy, the only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe,” Susan said.

“One game at a time, Lu,” Peter said. “We don’t all have your imagination.”

With that, they all began to walk away.

“But I wasn’t imagining!” Lucy protested, drawing their attention once more.

This must be magic. Maybe (Y/N) was over there in Narnia, going home, and that was why it had locked up and become normal…

“That’s enough, Lucy,” Susan said firmly.

“I wouldn’t lie about this!” Lucy said, looking at them all pleadingly.

“Well, I believe you!” Edmund said, grinning.

“You do?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah, of course! Didn’t I tell you about the football field in the bathroom cupboards where I met a man from 1855?”

“Oh will you just stop?” Peter sighed. “You just have to make everything worse, don’t you?”

“It was just a joke!” Edmund said defensively.

“When are you gonna learn to grow up?”

Lucy hated it when they fought. It had only gotten worse since their dad went away. Before, it was always brotherly disagreements. Now, every little thing set off a squabble.

“Shut up!” Edmund shouted suddenly. “You think you’re dad, but you’re not!”

With that, he stomped away, slamming the door into the wall as he went.

“Well that was nicely handled,” Susan said, before she walked away.

Peter was the only one left to hear Lucy’s soft insistence.

“But… it really was there. I really _did_ meet a girl from the future.”

Her brother didn’t relent.

“Susan’s right, Lucy. That’s enough.” Then, he too was gone.

Dejected and alone, Lucy slowly turned and closed the wardrobe. Even if her siblings didn’t believe her, she knew what she saw. She knew she’d met (Y/N) and Mister Tumnus. It was real, and she would prove it.

* * *

That night, after all the others had fallen asleep, Lucy still hadn’t stopped thinking about Narnia. She had to get back. If she could get back, it meant she could prove to the others that it was all real. After checking to make sure Susan was soundly asleep, she sat up and grabbed her boots. This time, she would be better prepared for walking in the snow. Taking hold of the bedside candle, Lucy made her way back to the spare room. Spare Oom, as Tumnus had called it. She was so focused on getting back, she didn’t even notice Edmund coming out of the bathroom behind her.

The moment Lucy opened the wardrobe door, and icy wind rushed from beyond, extinguishing the candle.

Narnia.

She went inside, careful not to shut the door behind her once more. The candle, she discarded just outside where Narnia met the wardrobe, upon realizing that it was daytime in Narnia, unlike back in her world. The lamppost was certainly easier to find than she’d anticipated. She had expected to have to stumble around in the dark to find it. To her delight, (Y/N) was already standing there beneath it. When she spotted Lucy, a bright smile lit her face, and she rushed to hug Lucy.

“Lucy! I’ve missed you so much!” she said.

Lucy giggled, returning the hug. “You can’t have missed me that much, we saw each other just this morning!”

At that, (Y/N) pulled away and shook her head.

“This morning? Lucy, It’s been two days for me.”

“What?”

“Narnia disappeared from the wardrobe when I tried to tell my grandmother about it. At first, I thought maybe it wouldn't open cause you were using it, but it didn’t come back until just now, and you couldn't possibly have been using it for two whole days. But I’m so glad that it let me back! See, last night I had a dream that the wardrobe would work for me again, so I tried, and it did! Did you come to see Mister Tumnus too?”

Lucy nodded eagerly.

“I wanted to make sure he’s alright, that the trees didn’t tell the White Witch about us all meeting.”

“Come on, then,” (Y/N) said, taking her hand. “We’ll have to be careful, but let’s go check on him.”

It was a bit difficult to find their way, since they’d had Tumnus to guide them before, but when the two of them put their heads together, memory served well enough. Lucy stepped forward and politely knocked on the door. After a moment, it slowly creaked open, Mister Tumnus peering out.

When he saw who it was, he relaxed, and opened the door a bit wider.

“(Y/N)? Lucy? How in the world did you get back?”

“We came to see you,” (Y/N) said.

“To make sure you’re alright,” Lucy added.

Tumnus waved them in, glancing around. “Come inside. Quickly, quickly!”

(Y/N) made sure Lucy got in first, then followed. Mister Tumnus shut the door behind them.

“I can’t deny, it does my heart good to see you both,” he said, “But I do worry so for your safety.”

“We’re quite alright, Mister Tumnus,” Lucy said comfortingly.

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “We both just couldn’t stay away from this place.”

“Come, come,” Tumnus said, ushering them to the seat by the fireplace. “Let me fetch some tea and cakes. Though I daresay, the music we might do without this time, eh?”

The girls gave a little laugh at that.

“Now, you mustn’t stay nearly as long this time,” he continued as he poured cream into their teas. Kind-hearted faun that he was, he’d remembered exactly how much each girl had preferred last time. “The longer you stay, the greater chance you’ll be found out, and we can’t have that.”

“We’ll be quick, don’t worry,” (Y/N) promised. “But while we’re here, can you tell us more about Narnia? About the White Witch and her awful winter?”

Tumnus hesitated, but then nodded, handing a teacup and a cake to each girl.

“I suppose. It’s only right that you know. After all, you’re…” he trailed off. “But nevermind that. Yes, the White Witch… or, rather, Jadis, as is her true name. She took the throne by force when our monarchy collapsed. Our armies fended her off for years, but eventually, she overcame us, and named herself Queen over Narnia. Her power is terrible… with a wave of her wand, she turns any Narnian creature into stone.”

“She sounds horrible,” Lucy murmured.

Mister Tumnus nodded. “So she is.”

“If only someone could stop her,” (Y/N) said.

Tumnus looked at her with a curious expression.

“Well…” he began, but then seemed to think better of it. “No, I’m afraid I’ve kept you too long as it is. If you come back to visit again, I shall tell you more.”

Lucy set aside her teacup and what little was left of her cake and rose to hug Mister Tumnus. (Y/N) moved much more slowly, looking very much like she wanted to question him further, but she didn’t press the matter. She hugged Tumnus close as well, then he showed them to the door.

“Shall I accompany you back to the lamppost?” he asked kindly.

“No, thank you,” (Y/N) said. “I can get us back.”

Tumnus nodded, then glanced around one last time. “Be safe, the both of you.”

With that, they parted ways. (Y/N) and Lucy hurried back to the lamppost, silent for the most part. Just before they reached the little exit to the wardrobe, (Y/N) noticed a figure off ahead of them and pulled Lucy to the side.

“There’s someone here,” she whispered urgently, but when Lucy caught sight of the stranger, she smiled.

“Edmund?”

The boy turned around, and (Y/N) noticed that he was just about the same age as she was. This must have been one of the brothers Lucy had mentioned.

“Oh, Edmund!” Lucy exclaimed, running over and throwing her arms around him. “You got in too! Isn’t it wonderful? Here, look! You simply must meet (Y/N)!”

(Y/N) followed along, though she didn’t hug him. Edmund didn’t really seem to want to hug Lucy.

“Where have you been?” he asked, pushing her away. He gave (Y/N) a rather funny look, no doubt wondering about her clothes as Lucy had.

“With Mister Tumnus,” Lucy replied. “He’s fine. The White Witch hasn’t found out anything about him meeting me.”

(Y/N) was watching Edmund with an unreadable look on her face, and he didn’t like it. The odd girl hadn’t said a word to him yet, and he thought it rather unnerving. It was as if she knew what he’d been doing.

“The White Witch?” he asked, genuinely confused, though he had nasty feeling in his stomach.

“She calls herself the Queen of Narnia,” (Y/N) finally spoke, “But she really isn’t.”

Edmund looked at her, and she looked back.

“Are you alright?” Lucy asked. “You look awful.”

Edmund quickly seized the opportunity to change the subject.

“Well, what’d you expect? I mean, it’s freezing.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “How do we get out of here?”

“Come on,” Lucy said, grabbing his hand. Edmund didn’t seem too pleased about that, but he didn’t pull away. With her other hand, Lucy quickly took ahold of (Y/N), taking her along too.

“Here we are,” Lucy said. She looked at (Y/N) with a smile. “Now I know Peter and Susan will believe me! I’ll have to bring them to meet you next time.”

(Y/N) smiled and hugged Lucy quickly. “I’d like that. Go on, you first again. I’ll see you next time.” She paused, then waved at Edmund. “It was nice meeting you, Edmund.”

Edmund didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Ed,” Lucy said softly, pulling back towards the exit. He took one last look at the land of Narnia before he followed his sister back into the wardrobe.

As soon as they’d gotten back through, Lucy took off running, no doubt to tell Peter and Susan. Now, Edmund found himself faced with a dilemma. If he admitted to finding Narnia, Peter and Susan might think _him_ childish and crazy too, and he simply couldn’t have that. Peter already treated him enough like a child as it was. On the other hand, if they believed him, then he would have to confess to what he’d been up to while Lucy was having tea with a faun and a future-girl. He wasn’t quite sure which would be worse.

“Peter, Peter, wake up!” Lucy said, jumping onto her brother’s sleeping form. “Peter, wake up! It’s there, it’s really there!”

“Shh!” he said sleepily, rolling over to face her. If the Macready heard this racket, there would surely be hell to pay. “Lucy, what are you talking about?”

Behind them, Edmund and Susan came into the room.

“Narnia!” she replied. “It’s all in the wardrobe, like I _told_ you!”

“You’ve just been dreaming, Lucy,” Susan scolded.

“But I haven’t!” she protested. “I saw (Y/N) and Mister Tumnus again! And this time, Edmund went too.”

Peter paused at that, turning his attention to Edmund.

“You… You saw the faun? And the girl?”

Edmund shook his head. It was true, he hadn’t seen the faun, so technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Well, he didn’t actually go there with me. (Y/N) and I found him…” She paused, then turned to face him. “What _were_ you doing, Edmund?”

Edmund had two very good reasons not to tell the truth, and so, despite the expectant looks from Susan and Peter, he made a most cowardly decision in that moment.

“I was… just playing along,” he said. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have encouraged her, but you know what little children are like these days.” He tried to ignore the way Lucy’s face bunched up with tears. “They just… don’t know when to stop pretending.”

Lucy began to cry, rushing from the room. Susan rushed after, and Peter snatched up his robe before following, though he did pause long enough to shove Edmund roughly.

So there he stayed, trying to ignore the pit in his gut. He had done what was best for him. That was all that mattered… right?


	3. The Arrest of Mister Tumnus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself except that I keep getting carried away. Also, I realize I haven’t been focusing on the Reader very much, but I just really feel that this should be told as R’s story through the Pevensie’s eyes, if that makes sense. It will focus more on R eventually, but our intro will be courtesy of how the others see her.

The next day, Lucy refused to speak to the others, especially Edmund. No matter what comforts Peter and Susan put forth, she didn’t budge. Rather, she focused on reading her book. Even when Susan practically forced them all outside to enjoy the beautiful weather, Lucy wouldn’t play with them. She let them all have their game, but she sat under a nearby tree to read. If she couldn’t go to Narnia, she might as well lose herself in a land that really was imaginary, rather than be forced to act like everything was okay with her siblings. No, she intended to thoroughly ignore them. They simply didn’t understand. (Y/N) would understand, though, and Mister Tumnus would empathize. Once Susan and Peter finally allowed them all back into the house, she knew exactly where she’d be headed.

The sudden sound of shattering glass jolted her from her book.

“Oh _no_ ,” Susan said.

“Quick, we’ve got to see what got hit,” Peter said. He took off for the mansion in a sprint, and the others followed.

Now this, Lucy thought, was far too interesting to pass up. She set her book aside and rushed after them.

After only a little bit of searching, the four of them found the foyer the ball had crashed into. An antique-looking suit of armour lay on the ground, some of its pieces dented and scattered, and the ball sat in the midst of broken glass shards.

“Well done, Ed,” Peter said.

“You bowled it!” he snapped back defensively.

Just then, a shrill voice echoed from elsewhere in the house, “What on _earth_ is going on?”

“The Macready!” Susan gasped.

Peter waved them all towards the door. “Come on!”

The four of them took off running, desperate to escape that horrid woman’s wrath. They rounded a corner, but Edmund, who had taken the lead at some point, froze in his tracks as footsteps echoed from beyond.

“No no,” he said quickly, “Back, back, back!”

They all turned around and headed back the other way. How did it seem that the Macready’s footsteps were always coming from the direction they were headed? After all, it was a big house, and she wasn’t _that_ fast. But there was no time to dwell on such things. Wherever she _wasn’t_ , that was where the four siblings ran. Closer and closer, the steps came, ever cornering them, like a pincer, forcing them in a specific direction. Peter tried a door, but it was locked. He moved to the next one, but Edmund beat him there. Spare Oom, Lucy noted.

They shut the door behind them, but the footsteps clacked on. Edmund rushed up to the wardrobe, flinging the door open. It was their last and only option.

“Come on!”

Susan gave the wardrobe an incredulous look. “Oh, you’ve _got_ to be joking…”

But the sound of the approaching Macready gave no room for argument. Peter quickly guided the girls into the wardrobe, making certain he was last. He closed the door as far as he could, but not all the way, for he knew it was foolish to close oneself inside a wardrobe. Just before the door to the room opened, he darted back, trying to stay as far away from the door as possible, but there wasn’t much room for all four of the siblings in the tiny space.

“Get back!”

“My toe!”

“I’m not _on_ your toe!”

“Move _back_!”

“Will you _stop_ shoving?”

And just like that, the two eldest Pevensies tripped and fell backwards, not into the wood of the wardrobe wall, but rather, into a powdery layer of snow.

Snow?

Slowly, they turned, climbing to their feet. Just as Lucy had described, before them lay a forest, coated in ice and frost. It stretched out for miles and miles, seemingly.

“Impossible,” Susan whispered.

Peter could only stare.

“Don’t worry,” Lucy said, a smirk playing at her lips. “I’m sure it’s just your imagination.

“I-I don’t suppose saying we’re sorry would… quite cover it?” Peter said sheepishly.

“No, it wouldn’t…” Lucy said mischievously. Like lightning, she launched a snowball right at his face. “But that might!”

Peter gasped in surprise, then grinned and dove for the ground to make a few retaliatory projectiles of his own. A gleeful snowball fight broke out then, amidst the wonder and excitement of this new land. Even Susan joined in. Peter managed to get Lucy back with a shot of his own, but the fun quickly evaporated when Susan nailed Edmund in the shoulder.

“Ow! Stop it!”

Suddenly, Peter’s face dropped into a mask of anger, recalling the events of last night.

“You little _liar_!”

“You didn’t believe her either,” Edmund sneered.

“Apologize to Lucy,” Peter demanded. Edmund simply glared, until Peter moved towards him menacingly. “Say you’re sorry!”

“All right!” he snapped, taking a step back. “I’m sorry…”

Even though he really didn’t sound it, Lucy seemed to accept that.

“That’s alright,” she said, grinning, “Some little children just don’t know when to stop pretending.”

“Oh, _very_ funny,” Edmund hissed.

There was silence for a moment, then Susan spoke up. “Maybe we should go back.”

So much for the carefree older sister who’d just joined in on a snowball fight.

“But… shouldn’t we at least take a look around?” Edmund said quickly.

“I think Lucy should decide,” Peter announced. It was his way of making it up to her for everything.

Lucy gasped happily. “I’d like you all to meet Mister Tumnus! And (Y/N), if she’s around. She usually shows up by now…”

“Well, then Mister Tumnus it is,” Peter agreed. “Don’t worry, Lu, I’m sure we’ll find her soon. She can’t be that far away. Maybe she’s already at the faun’s house, just waiting for us all.” That seemed to make her quite happy. Peter quickly ducked back into the wardrobe.

“But we can’t go hiking in the snow, dressed like this!” Susan argued.

For once, she wasn’t simply being negative. She brought up a good point, but Peter had already thought of that. He returned with a set of four fur coats.

“No,” Peter agreed, “But I’m sure the Professor wouldn’t mind us using these.” He handed the smallest one to Lucy, who looked over it with awe before slippin it on. “Anyway,” he continued, turning to give one to Susan, “If you think about it _logically_ , we’re not even taking them out of the wardrobe.” Finally, he handed a gray one to Edmund, who refused to take it.

“But that’s a _girl’s_ coat!”

Peter simply pushed it into his chest.

“I know.”

Evidently, he wasn’t done punishing Edmund for how he’d treated Lucy. Finally, Edmund accepted it, but not without a dark scowl.

Once they were all bundled and ready, Lucy led them, first to the lamppost, then beyond. After having come here twice in the daylight now, she was much more confident in her ability to find her way, even without (Y/N). Peter, Susan, and Lucy had a grand time as they walked along, pausing occasionally to roll down a small, snowy slope, or admire the frosted branches. Edmund, on the other hand, simply walked along behind them, uneventfully. All along the way, Lucy chattered to them about what they would do when they got there, and what (Y/N) was like, and how kind Mister Tumnus was, but suddenly, her ramblings were cut short.

When they reached the little cliffside nook of Mister Tumnus’ home, it was clear something was awry. The door hung limply from its hinges, and there were no candles lit inside. Lucy stopped dead in her tracks.

“Lu?” Peter called.

She took off in a sprint towards the home.

“Lucy!” he shouted, following after.

The four siblings trailed somberly inside the place, taking in the destruction and mayhem. Standing in front of the pillar by the entryway, Lucy recognized the back of (Y/N)’s head. It looked like she was reading something.

At the sound of their footsteps crunching broken glass beneath their feet, the girl jumped and spun to face them. When she noticed Lucy, her posture relaxed, but her face grew sad.

“Lucy!”

The two girls rushed to hug.

“(Y/N), you’re alright!” Lucy said, relieved. “What happened here?”

“Something horrible,” the other girl whispered back. Then, she caught sight of the rest of the family. “Oh, Edmund… it’s nice to see you again… and you two must be Peter and Susan then?”

Peter nodded slowly. “(Y/N) (L/N)?” he asked.

She nodded. “That’s me…”

“Are… you alright?” he asked, looking her over. He and Susan both eyed her clothes with a funny expression. Just like the first time Lucy had met her, she was wearing short trousers, this time with a shirt and jacket. Needless to say, it didn’t look warm.

“I’m fine…” she murmured, but Peter didn’t quite believe her.

“How long has it been for you, (Y/N)?” Lucy asked. “The last time I saw you was just last night.”

(Y/N) frowned. “I haven’t been able to get back for a week… It’s been awful. I half thought I’d dreamed it all up.” She looked at them all in relief. “But it’s good to see you all… Just maybe not like this,” she said, glancing around.

“Who would do something like this?” Lucy asked.

(Y/N) stepped aside, pointing at the notice on the pillar she’d been examining.

“Exactly who you’d think.”

Peter came over and ripped the parchment down, then began to read it.

“ _The Faun Tumnus is hereby charged with High Treason against Her Imperial Majesty, Jadis, Queen of Narnia, for comforting her enemies and fraternizing with humans. Signed Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police. Long Live the Queen._ ” He and Susan exchanged concerned glances, which didn’t go unnoticed by (Y/N).

Susan took the notice from him and looked it over.

“Alright,” she said, “Now we _really_ should go back.”

“But what about Mister Tumnus?” Lucy cried.

“If he was arrested just for being with a human, I don’t think there’s much we can do,” Suzan said reasonably.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Lucy whispered. “ _I’m_ the human, me _and_ (Y/N). She must have found out he helped us…”

“Maybe we could call the police,” Peter suggested, but Susan shot that down.

“These _are_ the police,” she argued, holding out the notice.

Peter sighed, and looked down at Lucy, catching (Y/N)’s eye along the way. “Don’t worry, Lu,” he said. He gently put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “(Y/N), we’ll think of something.”

“Why?” Edmund finally piped up, drawing everyone’s gaze. “I mean, he’s a criminal!”

“Edmund, how can you say that?” (Y/N) spoke. “Tumnus is so nice and good, it’s the Witch who’s the real criminal here. She’s just throwing a tantrum because she didn’t manage to catch us… and Mister Tumnus doesn’t deserve to pay for it.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but just then, a bird landed on a tree outside.

“ _Psst!_ ”

Susan paused. “Did that bird just… ‘ _psst_ ’ at us?”

Peter moved around the others and went outside to check, the others close behind. Even (Y/N) was sticking close to his side, as if she’d been one of his younger siblings her whole life. Peter cautiously moved forward, trudging through the snow. The bird that Susan had pointed out fluttered away, but the five children were all still wary.

Just then, a twig snapped. (Y/N) latched onto Peter’s arm, surprising both him and herself.

“ _Psst!_ ”

There it came again. Susan and Lucy huddled close on his other side, and Peter placed himself in front of all three girls protectively. Only Edmund hung back from them. The rustling came closer and closer, until suddenly--

A dark shape slowly ambled out from behind a snowback. A beaver. Not very intimidating at all, to say the least. The four who were clinging to each other slowly relaxed. (Y/N) suddenly let go of Peter’s arm, unsure if she had overstepped her bounds.

“It… It’s a _beaver_ …” Lucy said.

The little creature slowly moved towards them, quite brazen for a wild animal. Peter stepped toward it, away from the girls, offering it his hand.

“Here, boy…” he said. He clicked his tongue softly, trying to lure it closer as he inched towards it. “Here, boy…” He put his hand right down in front of the beaver.

It gave him an incredulous look, then opened its mouth… and _spoke_.

“Well I ain’t gonna smell it, if that’s what you want.”

Peter startled back. Susan and Edmund gasped, and Lucy giggled. (Y/N) looked on in awe.

“Oh,” Peter said, bewildered, “Sorry…”

Lucy was trying to hide her laughter, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. The beaver turned its attention to her and (Y/N).

“Lucy Pevensie?”

Her giggles ended abruptly.

“Yes?” she asked.

The beaver held out a small, white cloth to her, and she gently took it.

“Hey, that’s the hankie I gave to Mister Tum-”

“Tumnus,” the beaver confirmed, nodding. “He got it to me, just before they took him.” He glanced over at (Y/N). “You must be (Y/N) (L/N), then?”

She nodded.

“Is Mister Tumnus alright?” she asked.

But rather than answer, the beaver looked around cautiously, just as Mister Tumnus had done. “Further in,” he whispered, darting off.

Lucy and (Y/N) moved to follow, a protective Peter close behind.

“What are you doing?” Susan hissed to them.

“She’d right,” Edmund said quietly, so that the beaver might not hear. “How do we know we can trust him?”

(Y/N) found that a little odd. She got the feeling Edmund and Susan rarely agreed like this.

Peter shrugged. “He said he knows the faun.”

“He’s a beaver!” Susan said, exasperated. “He shouldn’t be _saying_ anything!”

“But this is Narnia!” (Y/N) argued. “It’s a magic land inside a magic wardrobe, where Lucy and I met a faun. Is it really that hard to accept that animals talk here?”

Susan paused, considering her words. Before she could reply, the beaver popped up from over a snowdrift again.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes,” Peter said quickly, “We were just talking.”

Once again, the beaver glanced around at the surrounding woods.

“That’s better left for safer quarters!” With that, he darted away once more.

Lucy exchanged a look with (Y/N), then explained to the others, “He means the trees…”

“They’re alive here too,” (Y/N) added. “And some of them are spies for the Witch… we’d better go with him.”

Peter sighed, but made to follow the beaver. Susan and Edmund reluctantly followed. They hadn’t gotten very far when Peter noticed (Y/N) shivering.

“Here,” he said to her, starting to remove his coat, “You must be so cold in those clothes.”

But (Y/N) shook her head.

“I can’t just take your coat…” she said. “Then _you’ll_ be cold.”

“I’ve got more on than you do,” he argued, but the girl stubbornly refused.

“Here then,” Peter finally said. He opened the large coat so that she could walk alongside him. “We can share. I’ll not have you freezing to death on my watch.”

(Y/N) laughed a little bit and ducked under his arm. “Alright, I suppose… if you insist.”

“I insist,” Peter said with a smile.

Lucy beamed at how well the two of them were getting along. Peter, ever the protector, couldn’t resist caring for (Y/N) as one of his own. Lucy simply hoped that Susan and Edmund would come to feel the same.

“Come on,” the beaver murmured to them, “We don’t want to be caught out here after nightfall.”

He led them along, through narrow cliff passages and down steep hills, until finally, a little dam came into sight. Smoke curled from the chimney - yes, a chimney on a dam!

“Ah, blimey!” Mister Beaver declared. “Looks like the old girl has got the kettle on. Nice cup o’ Rosy Lee.”

“It’s lovely!” Lucy said, smiling down at the quaint little dam house.

“Oh, it’s merely a trifle,” Beaver said modestly. “You know, still plenty to do, ain’t quite finished it yet. It’ll look the business when it is, though!”

“Well I can’t wait to see it when it’s done, Mister Beaver,” (Y/N) said kindly. If beavers could blush, then he certainly would have.

As they neared the entrance to the dam, a voice called out, “Beaver, is that you? I’ve been worried sick! If I found out you’ve been out with Badger again…” But as the little group came into view of the speaker, she trailed off with a soft gasp. “Oh… Well, those aren’t badgers! Oh, I never thought I’d live to see this day!”

The children all glanced at each other, confused. Why was she so happy to see them?

Mrs. Beaver turned to her husband, grumbling, “Look at my fur! You couldn’t have given me ten minutes’ warning?”

“I would’ve given you a week if I thought it would’ve helped,” he replied sweetly.

The children laughed at that, all except Edmund of course.

“Oh, come inside!” Mrs. Beaver said, eyeing the shivering (Y/N) in particular. “And we’ll see if we can’t get you some food… and some _civilized_ company.” She hurried away inside, and Mr. Beaver chuckled sheepishly.

“Now, careful,” he said, waving them in. “Watch your step.”

Peter helped (Y/N) inside right after Lucy and Susan, none of them noticing how Edmund lingered.

“Excuse the mess,” Mrs. Beaver said, “Can’t get Mr. Beaver to get out of his chair…” With a little chuckle at her own playful ribbing, she began to sit them all down, arranging their tiny table just so, in order to fit all of them in. All but Edmund, of course, but that was by his own choice to sit back alone. Susan sat next to Mrs. Beaver on one side, Peter one the other, then came (Y/N), then Lucy, sitting by Mr. Beaver

Once they’d all settled in, Peter got right to the point.

“Isn’t there anything we can do to help Mister Tumnus?” he asked.

Mr. Beaver solemnly shook his head. “They’ll have taken him to the Witch’s castle. And you know what they say… There’s few that go through them gates that come out again.”

At his words, Lucy’s face fell. (Y/N) gently rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to be comforting.

“Fish ‘n’ chips?” Mrs. Beaver said cheerily, bursting through the dark gloom with a platter of wonderfully cooked food for each of them. Noticing Lucy’s face, she set a paw on her arm. “But there is hope, dear. Lots of hope!” She looked to Mr. Beaver to back her up.

He spat out his drink in surprise. “Oh, yeah, there’s a right bit more than hope!” he declared boldly. He looked around conspiratorially, then leaned in close to the children. “ _Aslan_ is on the move.”

At the sound of that name, (Y/N) felt a beautiful warmth from head to toe.

“Who’s Aslan?” Edmund spoke, voicing the question on everyone’s minds.

Mr. Beaver gave a hearty laugh. “Who’s Aslan?” he repeated, chuckling. “You cheeky little blighter!”

But Mrs. Beaver gently shoved him, drawing his attention to the children’s serious faces.

“You don’t know, do you?” he asked, much more solemn now.

“Well, we haven’t exactly been here long, any of us,” Peter defended.

“Well he’s only the king of the whole wood,” Mr. Beaver said obviously, growing more passionate as he spoke. “The top geezer… The real King of Narnia!”

“He’s been away for a long while,” Mrs. Beaver explained.

“But he’s just got back!” Mr. Beaver declared. “And he’s waiting for you near the Stone Table!”

“He’s waiting for _us_?” Lucy asked, confused.

“You’re bloomin’ joking!” Mr. Beaver cried, turning to his wife. “They don’t even know about the prophecy!”

“Well, then…” she said placatingly, gesturing for him to explain.

Beaver sighed. “Look,” he said, starting a list on one paw, “Aslan’s return, Tumnus’ arrest, the secret police, it’s all happening because of you!”

Susan glanced at the others in disbelief. “You’re blaming us?”

“No!” Mrs. Beaver said quickly. “Not blaming, thanking you!”

“There’s a prophecy,” Mr. Beaver explained. “ _When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done._ ”

“You know, that doesn’t really rhyme,” Susan pointed out.

“Yeah, I know it don’t,” Beaver dismissed. “You’re kinda missin’ the point!”

Mrs. Beaver took over for him. “It has long been foretold that two Sons of Adam and three Daughters of Eve will defeat the White Witch and restore peace to Narnia.”

“And you think _we’re_ the ones?” Peter asked.

“Well you better be, ‘cause Aslan’s already fitted out your army!” Mr. Beaver said.

“Our _army_?” Lucy gasped.

Susan turned to Peter. “Mum sent us away so we _wouldn’t_ get caught up in a war.”

He sighed and turned to the Beavers. “I think you’ve made a mistake. We’re not heroes!”

“We’re from Finchley!” Susan added.

(Y/N) had been oddly silent ever since Mr. Beaver had mentioned Aslan.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Susan said politely, standing from the table, “But we really have to go!”

“No, you can’t just leave!” Beaver said desperately.

“He’s right,” Lucy said as Peter got up too. “We have to help Mister Tumnus!”

“It’s out of our hands,” Peter said sternly. He looked to the Beavers apologetically. “I’m sorry, but it’s time the four of us were getting home.”

“You guys can do what you want, but I’m staying here,” (Y/N) finally spoke. Peter and Susan looked at her with concern.

“(Y/N), it’s too dangerous,” Peter said. She noticed he was using the same tone with her as he had Lucy, like he thought he could _older-brother_ her, too. “Come on, (Y/N),” he tried again. Without waiting for a response, he turned to check on the last member of their party. “Ed?”

But Edmund was nowhere to be seen.

“Ed?”

Everyone looked around for him, but he was gone.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Peter said.

“You may not have to,” Mr. Beaver said darkly. “Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, I need your help! Now is your chance to influence the direction of the story. That’s right, your decision could affect the plot!
> 
> What two gifts should Reader receive from Father Christmas when we reach that chapter? I would be so grateful if you would take ten seconds to click your favorite two options on this poll I made. Choose carefully, because some items will mean I write a slightly different turn of events!
> 
> You can find the poll at  
> https://www.quotev.com/quiz/12406101/What-two-gifts-should-the-MC-of-my-Narnia-fic-get-from-Father-Christmas


	4. Gifts Long Overdue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long part. Y’all know the drill. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! In this part, we see what you all voted for Father Christmas to give to Reader!

The four children exchanged glances at Mr. Beaver’s question. Hesitantly, Lucy spoke up.

“Once before… He followed me in. But I didn’t find him til after…”

“He was with the White Witch.”

Everyone looked at (Y/N), their faces full of questions. She looked down at the floor under the weight of their gazes. Silence lingered until Peter finally asked the question on all their minds.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You were with Mister Tumnus and I the whole time,” Lucy said, confused.

“I… I had a dream about it,” (Y/N) hesitantly explained. “She pretended to be nice, she manipulated him… But he was supposed to bring all of us to her, I don’t know what she’ll do to him when he shows up alone.”

“A dream?” Susan asked, her tone rather disbelieving.

“I didn’t think anything about it til Lucy and I came back from meeting Mister Tumnus the second time. When I saw Edmund, I recognized him from my dream, and he avoided saying what he’d been doing. I knew it had to be real.”

“Whatever the case, we’ve got to go and get him!” Peter said.

“He’s going to the Witch’s castle, between the two hills,” (Y/N) told him quickly.

“There might still be time to catch him before she takes him,” Mr. Beaver said.

“Come on, then!”

Peter ducked out of the little house, taking off in a sprint, the others all close behind. Edmund’s tracks were fairly visible, but in the waning daylight, they became increasingly hard to follow.

“Hurry!” Peter called to the others as he ran ahead.

When the castle came into view, all of them froze in their tracks. It stood out in the vast, open space, jutting up from the ground like a collection of icy stalagmites. Off in the distance, Edmund’s tiny silhouette traipsed in through the gates.

“EDMUND!” Lucy shouted out with all her might.

“Shh!” Beaver hissed. “They’ll hear ya!”

Peter suddenly moved forward, running towards the lair of the White Witch. Mr. Beaver grabbed his pant leg.

“No!” he cried.

“Get off me!” Peter said, trying desperately to get to his brother.

(Y/N) darted out in front of him, grabbing his arm.

“Peter, stop it!” she said. “You don’t stand a chance!”

“You’re playing into her hands!” Mr. Beaver said.

“We can’t just let him go!” Susan argued.

“He’s our brother!” Lucy added.

“He’s the bait! The Witch wants all five of ya!”

“Why?” Peter demanded.

“To stop the prophecy from coming true,” Beaver said urgently. “To kill ya!”

Silently, the four children watched as the great, icy gates closed firmly behind Edmund.

“What will she do to him, then?” Peter murmured.

“Peter,” (Y/N) said, drawing is attention, “You can’t help him. If you go after him, you _will_ die.”

She spoke with such certainty, and the look in her eyes held such pain that Peter was quite inclined to believe her.

“This is all your fault,” Susan spat.

“ _My_ fault?” Peter said.

“None of this would’ve happened if you had just listened to me in the first place!”

“So you _knew_ this would happen?”

“I didn’t know _what_ would happen. Which is why we should’ve left while we still could!”

“Stop it!” Lucy shouted, finally interrupting the two of them. “This isn’t going to help Edmund.”

“She’s right,” Mr. Beaver said. “Only Aslan can help your brother now.”

Peter looked at his sisters, then at (Y/N), and back to Mr. Beaver.

“Then take us to him,” he said firmly.

Beaver nodded. “We’ll need supplies… Come on, let’s get back to the dam.”

With that, he started back the way they’d come, doubly more wary now, with how close they were to the Witch’s lair. Lucy followed him closely, and Susan trailed behind after a dark glance at Peter, who hesitated.

(Y/N) sighed and went on ahead. Peter came up beside her.

“About what you said…” he began, but she shook him off.

“It’s not important.”

“How much have you dreamed about?” he pressed.

(Y/N) sighed. “Not all that much, if you can believe it. I know it seems like it, but… it’s all so confusing and frustrating. When I dream, it isn’t clear like watching a movie. It’s more like opening your eyes underwater. Everything is just a little fuzzy, and the sounds come in and out of being muffled. The ones that _are_ clear don’t make sense at all. _Nothing_ about me makes sense. I mean, why am I even here? Why am I a part of the prophecy? You four, it makes sense. You’re siblings, you were all bound to find Narnia together. But… I’m not even from the same century. It just… doesn’t make sense.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that.

“Every time I’ve dreamed, it was the night before I came here,” she said softly. “That has to mean something, right?”

“Maybe,” Peter said. “What other kinds of things have you seen?”

(Y/N) shrugged noncommittally, keeping back from the others a bit as they talked and walked, as if she didn’t want them to overhear.

“Just… snippets, really. Me being able to get back through the wardrobe. The way to Tumnus’ house. Edmund talking with the Witch. What would happen if you went after your brother. And…” she trailed off.

“And?” Peter asked. But they had arrived back at the dam now, and (Y/N) used that as her opportunity to dodge the conversation.

“I’d better go and help the Beavers pack…” she said, trying to brush past him. The others had already ducked inside.

Peter caught her by the arm, stopping her.

“(Y/N)…” he sighed.

“I’m not one of your little siblings, Peter…” (Y/N) said, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not your responsibility.”

Just then, a wolf howl rang out in the distance. The two of them looked at each other, eyes wide, then quickly headed in.

“Hurry, mother!” Mr. Beaver called, “They’re after us!”

“Oh, right then!” Mrs. Beaver said, beginning to rush around.

“What’s she doing?” Peter asked in disbelief.

(Y/N) darted around him and tried to help as best as she could.

“Oh, you’ll be thanking me later!” Mrs. Beaver said. “It’s a long journey, and Beaver gets pretty cranky when he’s hungry!”

Susan moved to help as well.

Mr. Beaver rolled his eyes. “I’m cranky _now_!”

The howling came closer and closer.

“Do you think we’ll need jam?” Susan asked.

“Only if the Witch serves toast!” Peter said smartly. “Here, (Y/N)!” He snatched up Edmund’s coat and draped over her shoulders. His brother had no use for it at the moment, and (Y/N) was liable to freeze without it.

“I’ll be returning this to Edmund when we find him,” she whispered to Peter. He couldn’t help but smile at her hopefulness.

The sound of snarling came from just outside the window. Everyone froze. Dirt began to sift above them, accompanied by the scritching of claws as the wolves began to dig in.

Mr. Beaver flung open a secret door, and Peter ushered everyone through it.

“Go, go, go!” he urged.

As fast as they could, the group made their way down the tunnel.

“Badger and me dug this,” Beaver explained. “Comes out right near his place.”

“You told me it led to your mum’s!” Mrs. Beaver remarked indignantly.

Lucy’s foot caught on an upturned root, making everyone pause. They could hear the wolves again…

“They’re in the tunnel!”

“Quick, this way!”

“Hurry!”

Peter held the torch high to guide them all, until finally, they came to a little room.

“You should have brought a map!” Mrs. Beaver said suddenly.

“There wasn’t room next to the jam!” Mr. Beaver said back before leaping up into the exit chute.

Mrs. Beaver went next, then Susan. Peter boosted Lucy up, then turned to help (Y/N). Once he had climbed out, Peter and Mr. Beaver quickly blocked the entryway with a heavy barrel. That ought to buy them some time, at least.

When they all turned around, a horrible realization awaited them.

There, in front of a little house, an assortment of small woodland creatures waited… each immobilized in stone. Front and center to them all stood a badger, paws raised to brace the inevitable finishing blow.

Beaver walked over in horror.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Mrs. Beaver said softly.

“He was my best mate…”

The four children looked around in horror.

“What happened here?” Peter asked.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but whisper, “The White Witch…”

“This is what becomes of those who cross the Witch,” came a voice. Up on the little roof, a canine figure lingered there.

Peter pushed the three girls behind him, backing away from the silhouette.

“You take one more step, traitor, and I’ll chew ya to splinters!” Mr. Beaver threatened.

“Relax,” the creature laughed. When he jumped down to the ground, (Y/N) could tell that he was a fox, and not, in fact, a wolf. “I’m one of the good guys.”

“Yeah? Well, you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones.”

“An unfortunate family resemblance,” the fox said. “But we can argue breeding later. Right now, we’ve got to move.”

Behind them, the sounds of the wolves came ever closer. Peter steeled himself, making a split decision.

“What did you have in mind?”

The fox nodded to a nearby tree.

“Hide, quickly now. I’ll throw them off your trail.”

There was no time to debate his trustworthiness. This was their only option. Peter stood beneath the tree, helping everyone up first before climbing up to join them, just in time. The Witch’s wolves burst out of the tunnel, sending the makeshift barricade flying across the lawn. The fox had only just finished brushing their tracks away with his fluffy tail when they circled him.

“Greetings, gents! Lost something, have we?” he taunted.

“Don’t patronize me!” the largest wolf snarled. That must have been Maugrim, (Y/N) reasoned, the captain. “I know where your allegiance lies. We’re looking for some humans.”

The fox scoffed at that. “Humans, here in Narnia?” He gave the wolves a sly smirk. “Now that’s a valuable bit of information, don’t you think?”

Peter exchanged glances with the others. Was he going to sell them out? Had they just trapped themselves by trusting him? But when Peter looked to (Y/N), she didn’t seem scared. Worried on the fox’s behalf, perhaps, but certainly not scared.

One of the wolves lunged at the fox, clamping its teeth down on his back. He yelped in pain, and Peter only just managed to cover Lucy’s mouth in time to stifle her shocked gasp.

“Your reward is your life,” Maugrim said with a dark smirk. “It’s not much,” he chuckled.”But still…”

Peter nearly thought he might have to hold (Y/N) back from jumping down to fight the wolf herself. If the look on her face was anything to go by, she very badly wanted to.

“Where are the fugitives?”

The fox looked away from Maugrim with a guilty expression. Up in the tree, the tension was palpable, as they waited to see whether or not he would give them up.

“North,” he reluctantly “admitted”. “They ran north…”

Maugrim observed him with a hard look, then turned to the others.

“Smell them out.”

The wolf holding the fox tossed him away before following the others off in the direction he’d sent them. The poor fox landed on his side with a yelp.

Once Mr. Beaver was certain the wolves had gone, he gave the children permission to climb down. (Y/N) immediately ran over and knelt at the fox’s side.

“Are you alright… Mr. Fox?”

He looked up at her with a weak smile. “Just Fox is quite alright, my lady… and I will be… Thank you for your concern.”

“Can you stand?” Mrs. Beaver asked him.

He tried to stand, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“That’s alright,” Mr. Beaver said. “Here’s as good a place as any to build a fire. Dear, if you would be so kind as to get Mrs. Badger’s kit?”

She nodded and scurried off past the statues of their friends, into the little house. Soon, she returned with the supplies needed to stitch Fox up. Peter and Mr. Beaver gathered wood from the nearby trees, and soon had a lovely little fire going. Mrs. Beaver set to work on Fox.

“Can you tell us what happened here?” Peter asked, glancing around at the petrified Narnians.

Fox sighed. “They were helping Tumnus… The Witch got here before I did. Ow! Oh!”

“Are you alright?” Lucy asked.

“Well I wish I could say their bark was worse than their bite,” he joked dryly. “Ow!” he yelped as Mrs. Beaver his a particularly sensitive spot with her stitch.

“Stop squirming!” she scolded, “You’re worse than Beaver on bath day.”

“Worst day of the year,” he grumbled, making the three girls laugh.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Fox said finally, painfully getting to his feet. “But I’m afraid that’s all the cure I have time for.”

“You’re leaving?” Lucy asked in disbelief.

“But you’re hurt!” (Y/N) protested. “What if you run into the Witch’s police again?”

“It has been a pleasure, My Queens, and an honor,” he said as he bowed to the them, avoiding (Y/N)’s question, “But time is short, and Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops.”

The Beavers gasped.

“You’ve seen Aslan?”

“What’s he like?”

The children all waited for his answer, just as intrigued.

Fox smiled fondly. “Like… everything we’ve ever heard.”

“Is he a lion?” (Y/N) asked suddenly. Peter finally pulled his gaze away from the fire to glance at her.

Fox tilted his head ever so slightly. “Why, yes… However did you know?”

(Y/N) hesitated, looking at everyone else. “Just before I came back this time… I… had a dream. But not like the others…” She glanced at Peter, and he recalled their earlier conversation. This must have been what she’d avoided explaining. “This one was clear. But it didn’t make any sense. I saw a wide, open field. It went on for miles and miles… And there in the middle, the biggest lion I’ve ever seen was standing in front of this slab of stone, broken right down the middle.”

The others listened with rapt attention.

“Something in me said that the lion wasn’t ordinary,” she continued softly. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I had that dream. I guess now I know why… I still have no clue what it means, but… I’m working on that.”

“You are destined for great things, My Queen,” Fox said. “Truly, you must be blessed by Aslan himself. You’ll be glad to have him by your side in the battle against the Witch.”

“But we’re not planning on fighting any Witch,” Susan protested, ignoring (Y/N)’s disapproving frown.

“But surely, King Peter!” Fox pleaded, turning to him, “The prophecy!”

Peter avoided his gaze.

“We can’t go to war without you,” Beaver said quietly.

Peter nearly seemed like he might change his mind, but a look from Susan quickly dissuaded him.

“We just want our brother back.”

Fox seemed disheartened by that, but he nodded. “Very well…” He glanced at the Beavers. “I must be off now.” Once more, he bowed to the four children. “Farewell, your Majesties. Until such time as we may meet again…”

He turned and trotted off, vanishing into the darkness of the forest.

(Y/N) sighed and shook her head.

“Best you lot rest up,” Beaver said. “Our journey begins tomorrow.”

They all huddled close by the fire. Peter pulled Lucy and Susan close to himself, but (Y/N) stayed off by herself, lost in thought.

When dawn came, they set off at once. They had quite a ways to go, and not much time to get there. The Beavers led them through the woods, always on the watch for the Secret Police and other nasty creatures. They walked in silence for the most part. The woods had them all on edge. They paused atop a cliff, looking out over the land.

“Now Aslan’s camp is near the Stone Table,” Beaver explained. “Just across the frozen river…”

“River?” Peter asked in disbelief.

“Oh, the river’s been frozen solid for a hundred years!” Mrs. Beaver said.

“It’s so far…” Peter murmured.

“It’s the world, dear! Did you expect it to be small?”

Susan gave Peter a look.

“Small _er_.”

All of them were thinking of the wardrobe, and just how much more there was to it than they ever could have imagined. After that, they were off through the woods again, until, at long last, they came to a clearing.

No, not a clearing, (Y/N) realized, but rather a field. Its vast expanse stretched out before them like a battlefield, which it may well have been at one time.

“Is it safe to be out in the open like this?” she asked Mr. Beaver.

“Quite so!” he replied. “Never you worry, my dear. We might be easier to see, but so will anyone else.”

And so, they began their journey across. Susan followed the Beavers closely, with Peter right behind. Lucy and (Y/N), however, trailed behind just a bit. Every so often, Mr. Beaver would turn back to tell them all to hurry up.

“Do you really think Peter will leave once we get Edmund back?” (Y/N) quietly asked Lucy.

“I don’t know…” she said. “It doesn’t seem like he really wants to…”

“But Susan does.”

Lucy nodded slowly. “She’s just worried. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

(Y/N) smiled just a bit. “Hopefully.”

Just then, Mr. Beaver called to them, “Come on, humans! While we’re still young.”

Susan turned to share a look of irritation with the others.

“If he tells us to hurry one more time,” Peter said, “I’m gonna turn him into a big, fluffy hat.”

Lucy giggled at his joke, and Peter hefted her up onto his back for a ride.

“Hurry up! Come on!”

“He _is_ getting a little bossy,” Lucy agreed.

Just then, Mrs. Beaver noticed something.

“No! Behind you! It’s _her_!”

They all turned to see a sled gaining on them in the distance, the reindeer sending mists of white powder into the air as they ran. Lucy leapt down from Peter’s back and he grabbed her hand tightly.

“Run!” he called.

As fast as they could, they all sprinted for the treeline. Perhaps if they took a path full of narrow trees, they might be able to escape her sled.

The sound of hooves thundered ever closer. Finally, they reached the trees.

“Hurry!” Peter called to (Y/N), who had fallen behind. She caught up with them as fast as her legs would carry her.

Beaver found a little alcove in the rocks, and waved them over to it.

“Inside!” he ordered urgently. “Dive, dive!”

“Quick! Quick, quick, quick!” Mrs. Beaver said.

Peter pulled Lucy and (Y/N) close to himself, holding them protectively. Susan held tightly to the shoulder of his coat as they all huddled together, trying to stay as silent as possible. The jingling finally caught up to them, stopping right above their heads.

On the snowbank opposite to them, a tall shadow searched around, then moved away with a soft jingle. All of them held their breath.

“Maybe she’s gone?” Lucy finally suggested.

“I suppose I’ll go look,” Peter said, beginning to detangle himself from the two younger girls.

“No!” Beaver hissed, waving him back. “You’re worth nothing to Narnia dead!”

“Well neither are you, Beaver!” Mrs. Beaver protested.

He took her paws in his. “Thanks, sweetheart…”

Then, he quickly turned and slipped out of their hiding place. The rest of them waited in a tense silence. Until-

“Come out, come out!” Mr. Beaver shouted joyously as he popped out from over the ledge. Lucy gave a little startled scream. “I hope you’ve all been good,” Beaver continued obliviously, “‘Cause there’s someone here to see ya!” Just like that, he was gone again.

Peter moved first, and the other three slowly followed. When they reached the top of the little cliff, they all paused at what they saw. There, standing in front of a beautifully carved sleigh was a man in a deep red coat with a large beard. His identity was quite unmistakable.

He gave them a bright smile and a hearty chuckle. Lucy gasped in amazement. Susan, on the other, did not look so pleased.

“Merry Christmas, sir!” Lucy said happily, walking forward.

“It certainly is, Lucy,” Father Christmas agreed, “Since you have arrived.”

“Look,” Susan muttered to Peter, “I’ve put up with a lot since I got here, but _this_ …”

“We thought you were the Witch,” Peter said, cutting her off with a look.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry about that, but in my defense, I have been driving one of these longer than the Witch,” Father Christmas replied, gesturing to his sleigh.

(Y/N) couldn’t think of a single thing to say. This seemed so impossible…

“I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia,” Susan remembered suddenly.

“No,” he said, “Not for a long time. But the hope that you have brought, Your Majesties, is finally starting to weaken the Witch’s power.” He gave them all a kind smile. “Still, I daresay you could do with these…” He turned to his sleigh and pulled out a large sack.

“Presents!” Lucy said, excitedly rushing forward. But, what Father Christmas presented her with was not at all what she expected.

“The juice of the fire-flower,” he explained, holding up a beautiful glass bottle. “One drop will cure any injury.” Lucy slowly took it from him as he withdrew another item from his bag. “And though I hope you never have to use it…” He held an ornate dagger out to her, and she accepted it as well.

“Thank you, sir,” she said honestly. “But… I _think_ I could be brave enough.”

“I’m sure you could.” Father Christmas said kindly. “But battles are… ugly affairs.”

Lucy stepped back as the man reached back into the bag for another set of gifts.

“Susan,” he called. She stepped forward.

To her, her gave a beautiful bow and a set of red-feathered arrows. The quiver was beautiful, carved intricately from some white material. Her initials were engraved on it in silver.

“Trust in this bow, and it will not easily miss.”

Susan frowned. “What happened to _battles are ugly affairs_?”

Father Christmas merely chuckled, and offered her her next gift.

“Though you don’t seem to have a problem making yourself heard,” he said, “Blow on this, and wherever you are, help will come.”

It was a beautiful, ivory-colored horn that matched the quiver. At the end of it, a snarling lion’s mouth formed the bell.

“Thanks,” she said softly, looking truly happy for the first time since (Y/N) had met her.

“(Y/N),” he called next.

Though logically, she ought to have expected to be gifted something, she still hadn’t truly thought she’d be included. Slowly, she went up to him as he fished a pair of items from the bag.

First, he handed her a set of bow and arrows, just as he had to Susan. The bow itself, along with the shafts of the arrows, were made of a white colored wood that seemed to shimmer when light hit it just right. The feathers at the ends of the arrows were gold. The quiver, like Susan’s, was covered in beautiful, detailed carvings. Rather than white, however, the quiver’s color was a deep, cherrywood red, and (Y/N)’s initials had been emboldened in gold instead of silver.

“With this enchanted quiver,” Father Christmas said, “You shall never find yourself without arrows on the battlefield.”

Next, he handed her what, at first glance, appeared to be a little jewelry box with a rounded top, but when (Y/N) opened it, she found a compass inside, spinning, but with no clear direction.

“This was enchanted by Aslan himself. Whoever holds it will be led by his will, to their destiny. Whenever you feel lost, trust in this compass, and it will guide you.”

“Thank you…” (Y/N) said softly, stepping back to her friends as she looked over her gifts.

Finally, Father Christmas looked to the eldest of them.

“Peter… The time to use these may be near at hand.” He handed over a sword, with a lion’s head at the pommel, and a shield decorated with a red, rearing lion. There seemed to be a theme here.

Peter drew the sword, looking it over with something like pride lingering in his eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” he said.

“These are tool, not toys,” Father Christmas reminded. “Bear them well, and wisely.”

Peter nodded and re-sheathed his sword.

“Now, I must be off!” the man declared, hefting the sack back into the sleigh. “Winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you’ve been gone a hundred years!” He turned to them with a proud look. “Long live Aslan!” he said before climbing into the sleigh. “And Merry Christmas!” With a quick flick of the reigns, he was off.

They all called after him at once.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, thank you!”

“Goodbye!”

“See you next year!”

Lucy grinned up at Susan. “Told you he was real.”

The three girls laughed at that, but Peter’s face remained somber.

“He said winter… was almost over. You know what that means. No more ice.”

_The river._

They needed to move quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo what did you think of this part? Did you like Reader’s gifts? How do you think the gifts will help her along the journey? And what about her dreams, what’s up with that? Feel free to share your theories with me, and what you hope will or won’t happen! I thrive on audience interaction *hint hint*
> 
> Sidenote, I imagine the compass looking like the one from Pirates of the Caribbean...
> 
> Also, speaking of which, the idea for the compass was inspired by https://www.quotev.com/BetterLeftAlone 's Narnia series, Mi Reina, which you should definitely give a read, because it's a fantastic and beautifully well-written story!


	5. The Great Aslan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the word teenager wasn’t a thing til the 20′s. Even then, it didn’t really catch on until the 30′s/40′s, but it wasn’t “teenager”, it was “teen-aged” or “teen-age”, and the single word “teenager" didn’t become popular or widely used until later, hence why I continually refer to to them all as children. In my opinion, it just feels more authentic, but idk what y’all think lol.

They had very nearly arrived too late. The river was cracking apart right before their eyes. The water moved more freely now, and the crossing had been limited to a small section just at the base of the waterfall.

“We need to cross, now!” Peter ordered.

“Don’t beavers make dams?” Lucy asked.

Beaver shook his head. “I’m not _that_ fast, dear.”

“Come on!” Peter urged again. He grabbed ahold of Lucy and (Y/N), ushering them towards the small cliff path, but Susan stopped them.

“Wait! Will you just think about this for a moment?”

“We don’t have a minute!” Peter snapped, making Susan draw back. She almost looked hurt.

“I’m just trying to be realistic…”

“No, you’re trying to be smart, as usual!”

Having said his piece, Peter guided the two younger girls along the narrow outcropping, helping them to keep their footing. Evidently, he trusted that Susan would follow. A howl sounded in the distance, and Peter tried to move faster. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the riverbed. Peter helped Lucy down, and (Y/N) and Susan hopped down on their own.

In the time it had taken to climb down, a good portion of the ice had already floated away. Peter tentatively set a foot onto the ice, only for it to shift under his weight.

“Wait,” Beaver said, “Maybe I should go first…”

“Maybe you should…” Peter agreed nervously.

Mr. Beaver slowly started across, carefully testing the weight and balance of each spot with his paws and tail.

“ _You’ve_ been sneaking second helpings, haven’t you?” Mrs. Beaver accused as one bit moved underneath him.

He chuckled sheepishly in response. “Well you never know which meal’s gonna be your last…” He grumbled something else under his breath, but the children couldn’t quite make it out.

(Y/N) looked expectantly at Peter, and he locked eyes with her. With a short nod, he began to follow Beaver across, stepping precisely where he had gone on before. Lucy clung to his hand, and (Y/N) and Susan stuck together right behind them. Lucy nearly tripped as the ice shifted, but Peter kept her upright.

“If Mum knew what we were doing…” Susan muttered worriedly.

“Mum’s not here!” Peter said sternly.

They were running out of river, and quickly. The ice continued to break off and float away, and if they didn’t hurry, soon they would too.

Just then, chunks of ice fell from the frozen waterfall above their heads.

“Oh no!” Lucy cried.

They looked up to see the wolves of the Secret Police running across the top of the waterfall to cut off their escape.

“Run!” Peter shouted.

Susan grabbed ahold of (Y/N) and followed the other pair, but the group was cut off as the snarling wolves jumped out onto the ice in front of them. They looked back, but more wolves waited at the other shore.

Beaver leapt out at one wolf, but it got the best of him and viciously pinned him to the ice.

“No!” Mrs. Beaver cried.

“Peter!”

At Lucy’s shout, he quickly drew his new sword, but Maugrim merely sneered.

“Put that down, boy. Someone could get hurt.”

“Don’t worry about me!” Mr. Beaver called, struggling in the wolf’s grasp. “Run ‘im through!”

“Leave now while you can, and your brother leaves with you.”

(Y/N) froze. Oh no… She desperately hoped Peter wouldn’t fall for the obvious lie. He didn’t seem to be taken by the wolf’s words… but Susan did.

“Stop, Peter! Maybe we should listen to him!”

Maugrim chuckled. “Smart girl…”

“Don’t listen to him! Kill him!” Beaver urged. “Kill him now!”

“He’s lying, Peter!” (Y/N) said. “You know the White Witch would never give up Edmund!”

Peter didn’t budge, still leveling his sword at the wolf.

“Oh, come on,” Maugrim sneered, “This isn’t your war. All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go.” He eyed (Y/N) disdainfully. “ _All_ your family.”

Peter moved in front of her ever so slightly, and she took the cue to step behind him, out of Maugrim’s sight. She didn’t know how to feel at being included as Peter’s family, but now was certainly not the time to dwell on it.

Susan looked around at the ever-vanishing river, then turned back to Peter, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Look, just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn’t make you a hero! Just drop it!”

Peter glanced at her uncertainly, but didn’t move.

“No, Peter!” Beaver cried to him. “Narnia needs you! Gut ‘im while you still have a chance!”

(Y/N) wanted to shake him, but that would distract him. Why couldn’t he make his own decision? He clearly wanted to try, and he had the courage, but something was holding him back. Was it Susan’s voice in the back of his head?

“What’s it gonna be, Son of Adam?” Maugrim demanded. “I won’t wait forever. And neither will the river!”

“Peter!” Lucy shouted, watching in horror as the waterfall began to split. All of them looked up as spurts of water burst from the cracks in the ice. Time had run out. Peter looked around quickly, formulating a plan.

“Hold onto me!” he told the others. Susan and Lucy took ahold of the sides of his coat, and (Y/N) grasped the backs of both his and Susan’s. As soon as they were secure, Peter lifted the sword over his head and thrust it down into the ice beneath their feet with all his might.

The section they were standing on began to float away, just as the waterfall burst entirely. The ice plummeted into the water all at once, sending a wave crashing down over their heads. The wolves were sent flying, freeing Mr. Beaver. The four children barely had time to hold their breath before they were completely submerged in the frigid water.

It felt like an eternity, but at last, the buoyancy of the ice chunk propelled them back to the surface, and they all gasped for air. They weren’t in the clear yet, however. The water was choppy as it flowed freely once more, and the little iceberg nearly overturned once or twice. Peeter held onto Lucy, and Susan kept (Y/N) from slipping away. The Beavers slipped into the water to help steer them to shore, and they all gratefully dismounted.

Suddenly, Peter looked down. Lucy wasn’t there. Her coat hung limply from his hand.

“What have you done?” Susan cried.

The three remaining looked around in horror.

“Lucy!” Susan shouted, desperately searching the river. “Lucy!”

“Has anyone seen my coat?” came a voice, just a bit further down along the shore.

A sigh of relief swept over the group.

“Don’t you worry, dear,” Mr. Beaver said. “Your brother’s got you well looked after.”

Peter wrapped Lucy back in the sopping fur, but Mrs. Beaver happily announced to them, “And I don’t think you’ll be needing those coats anymore…”

When everyone turned to see what she was looking at, they couldn’t help but smile. Tiny, pink buds were beginning to bloom rapidly, flourishing in spite of the frost. It seemed, like the river, the Witch’s spell had truly begun to melt away.

It wasn’t long after that humid heat, brought about by all the melted ice, forced them to abandon their coats in the forest. Now, (Y/N) was glad for her modern summer clothes. This time, rather than Peter, it was Susan who walked beside her to talk.

“So…” She seemed rather uncertain as to how to begin.

“So?”

“About what the wolf said…”

“About me being family?” (Y/N) asked. Susan nodded. “I’m sure he was just making assumptions…” she muttered.

“But he wasn’t,” Susan said earnestly. “Peter won’t admit it out loud just yet, but… I know he considers you one of us.”

(Y/N) felt a heat rising in her cheeks.

“And so do I.”

Now that caught her off guard. She looked up to see Susan smiling kindly. “These past few days haven’t been easy, and… I know I haven’t exactly shown my best side, but…”

(Y/N) smiled shyly.

“I’m honored to be a part of this family,” she said.

Susan smiled even more brightly and put an arm around her, hugging her close.

Soon, the group came to the edge of the woods, at long last. Ahead of the, there lay a great assortment of brightly colored tents, and bustling creatures all around. As they drew near, a horn from somewhere unseen heralded their arrival.

None of the others noticed as Lucy wave hello to a dryad before catching up.

They walked into the camp, side by side, and as they passed by, all manner of creatures stopped what they were doing to look at them. Centaurs, both male and female alike paused in the making of their armor to follow along the prophesized kings and queens, and the fauns and satyrs set aside their half-crafted weapons. Red Dwarfs and Large Cats and all other sorts of Narnia creatures looked watched in awe.

Soon enough, a grand procession had joined them on their trek.

“Why are they all staring at us?” Susan asked.

“Maybe they think _you_ look funny,” Lucy teased.

(Y/N) and Peter stifled laughter at that.

Finally, they came to the grandest tent in the camp. This had to be it. A tough-looking centaur awaited them there, looking expectant.

Peter drew his sword and held it out as he announced, “We have come to see Aslan.”

The centaur said nothing, but turned his gaze upon the tent. He, and every other creature in the army bowed or knelt respectfully.

The four children turned their attention to the tent once more.

It seemed as if time slowed down as a large, golden paw emerged, followed by the grandest, biggest lion any of them had ever seen. The sight of him put a smile on all their faces, and (Y/N) realized that her dreams could not possibly have done him justice in a million years. All of them bowed, waiting for him to speak.

Welcome, Peter, Son of Adam.” His voice was like nothing (Y/N) had ever heard before, and judging by the looks on the others’ faces, the same went for them. He looked at each of them in turn as he spoke. “Welcome, Susan, (Y/N), and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. And welcome to you, Beavers. You have my thanks. But where is the fifth?”

Peter stood, and the others followed his lead. “That’s why we’re here, sir,” he explained, sheathing his sword. “We need your help.”

“We had a little trouble along the way…” Susan said.

“Our brother’s been captured by the White Witch,” Peter explained hesitantly.

“Captured?” Aslan asked. “How could this happen?” Though (Y/N) got the feeling he already knew.

“He… betrayed them, Your Majesty,” Mr. Beaver said.

Behind them, the crowd of soldiers murmured amongst themselves. The great lion didn’t seem surprised, but the centaur nearby stomped his hoof.

“Then he has betrayed us all!”

“Peace, Oreius,” Aslan commanded gently. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.” He looked at Peter expectantly. It was then that (Y/N) realized what he was doing.

Peter had been so insecure throughout their journey, but now, Aslan was waiting for him to step up. Testing him, to see if he would bear the responsibility, as any good king should. Peter did not disappoint.

“It’s my fault, really,” he admitted. “I was too hard on him.”

Susan watched her brother with a newfound respect.

“We all were,” she added, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. She too had grown over the course of their time in Narnia.

Aslan seemed pleased with their answers.

“Sir, he’s our brother,” Lucy said in a small voice.

“He’s family,” (Y/N) spoke up. The other three looked at her, then at each other with knowing, fond looks.

“I know, dear ones,” Aslan said gently. “But that only makes the betrayal all the worse. This may be harder than you think.”

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Peter said firmly.

Aslan smiled softly. “I know you will. But for now, you must rest. You’ve had a long journey, all of you.” He nodded to a faun and a lady centaur nearby. “Vitarius and Clemendia will show you to your tents.”

The pair of them nodded, and stepped forward to escort the young royals. (Y/N) made to follow them, but Aslan called to her.

“Walk with me, (Y/N). We have much to discuss.”

She glanced at Peter, who gave her an encouraging nod, then turned to follow Aslan. The crowd began to disperse as he walked alongside her, leading her up to a hilltop overlooking the camp. Off in the distance, Cair Paravel shimmered on the cliffside above a beach.

“You’ve been dreaming, have you not?” Aslan asked, sitting beside her.

“Yes, sir…” she replied. “And… you probably already know what about.”

Aslan nodded. “Foresight is a tricky thing. You’ve seen far more than any other Oracle before you, but it will not last.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked. “Like, I’ll stop having dreams?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “But the more you dream, the less certain they will become. You foresaw Edmund’s meeting with Jadis.”

“Yeah, but… it wasn’t clear. It was… I guess disorienting is the word.”

“So it was. Dreams such as those shall fade over time, and ones such as what you foresaw about me shall become more common. They may seem nonsensical at first, but as you grow, you will learn to interpret them.”

(Y/N) let that sink in. The two of them stood there for a long moment, watching over the camp below.

“You’ve already begun to understand the first one, haven’t you?” Aslan asked. Once again, he must have already known the answer, going by the look on his face.

“I think so…” (Y/N) said uncertainly. “The field is this place, I’m pretty sure. It’s where we found you. The big, broken stone seems like it should be the Stone Table, but I don’t understand why it’s broken, or why you’re standing over it.”

Aslan stood and rested a paw on her shoulder. “All in good time, my Seer. Soon, all will become clear.”

“I sure hope so,” she joked, making him chuckle.

“Once you’ve rested, you ought to speak to Oreius,” Aslan advised. “Centaurs read the signs of mine and my Father’s will in the stars, and you would do well to learn the same. You may find your dreams easier to interpret alongside the warnings of the stars.”

(Y/N) nodded, taking his advice to heart. “I will…”

“Now go,” Aslan said. “Find your family. And, if you would, send Peter to me. I must speak with him on certain matters as well.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, turning to walk away. But, just then, she paused, remembering something.

“Aslan?” she asked, turning back around.

He looked to her expectantly.

“The compass that Father Christmas gave me… it hasn’t settled on a direction. It just keeps spinning… Is it broken?”

Aslan chuckled softly. “No, my child. It has no direction because you are not lost. Here is where you are meant to be.”

With one last smile, she headed off to find Peter, her heart lighter than it had felt in weeks.

Peter was easy enough to find. He was talking with the faun from earlier, Vitarius. He had changed from his normal clothes into proper Narnia garb. Now, he looked much more at home. When he noticed her, he smiled.

“There you are, (Y/N),” he said. “What did Aslan say to you?”

“He talked to me about my dreams,” she explained. “He said he wants to see you, too.” She pointed to the hill. “Up there. He’s waiting for you.”

Peter nodded, then looked to Vitarius, who bowed and turned to (Y/N).

“This way, my lady. I shall take you to the others.”

With one last wave to Peter, (Y/N) followed the faun to where Clemendia, the centaur, awaited in front of a tent.

“Here is where I take my leave,” he said with a bow.

Clemendia smiled at (Y/N). “Welcome, my young queen. I’ve laid out a dress for you inside. The other queens are at the tent by the river, whenever you’re ready. I’m afraid I must see to the armory now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course… Thank you, Clemendia,” (Y/N) said politely.

The centaur bowed, then galloped off.

(Y/N) ducked inside the tent, evidently where the three girls would be staying. Three beds had been prepared, on two of which Lucy and Susan’s old clothes rested. Laid out on the third bed was the most beautiful dress (Y/N) had ever seen. It was a medieval style gown, cream-colored with a soft, gold trim. Once she’d dressed and fixed her hair, she went down to the river. Susan and Lucy were in the middle of a conversation. (Y/N) hung back a little, setting her bow and compass down by Lucy and Susan’s things. They too had gotten changed into clothing more suited to Narnia. Susan wore a green dress with white trim, and Lucy’s was pale blue with silver trim.

“I’m sorry I’m like that,” Susan was saying. “We used to have fun together, didn’t we?”

“Yes…” Lucy replied with a smirk. “Before you got boring!”

“Boring?” (Y/N) called, happily walking over to them. “Susan? Never!”

Lucy giggled and Susan couldn’t hide a smile.

“The two of you, I swear!” Susan scoffed. “Boring, am I?”

Just then, she leaned down to the water and splashed them both, making them shriek in laughter. Lucy splashed her back, catching (Y/N) in the crossfire.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!”

“Oh you’ll be sorry, alright!”

With a bright grin, she kicked water up at Lucy and Susan. They all giggled, then, having had enough, headed back up the hill to where towel hung on a line between two trees.

Susan grabbed the towel, and from behind it leapt one of the Witch’s wolves!

The three girls yelped in surprise.

“Please don’t try to run,” he sneered. “We’re tired…”

“And we’d prefer to kill you quickly,” came another’s voice. Maugrim. He cornered them from the right.

Susan kept herself between the other girls and the wolves, carefully looking around for a solution. The horn…

She tossed the towel at the nearest wolf and made a run for the horn.

“Into the tree, girls,” she ordered the other two. “Now!”

Lucy and (Y/N) sprinted over to the tree and quickly climbed up. Susan blew the horn as fast as she could and joined them just in time, before the wolves reached her. The tree was so small that there was barely room for all of them, and Susan’s feet dangled, nearly in reach of the leaping wolves below. There wasn’t room for them all to move any higher, however, or the branches would break.

“Get back!” came a shout. Peter! He came running across the river, drawing his sword as he advanced on the wolves.

“Peter!” Lucy cried.

While the wolf was distracted, Susan readjusted so her legs were out of reach.

“Come on!” the first wolf said, evidently wanting to make a break for an escape, but Maugrim refused.

“We’ve already been through this before,” he taunted Peter. “We both know you haven’t got it in you!”

The other wolf reluctantly remained with his captain, circling around Peter’s other side.

“Peter, watch the other one!” (Y/N) called.

He tried his best to keep an eye on both, but Maugrim’s lackey was working over to his blind side. Just then, Aslan pounced on the other wolf with a snarl, and it yelped in surprise. Behind him, an assortment of fauns, satyrs, and big cats came forward as well. Oreius galloped towards Maugrim, sword drawn, but Aslan stopped him.

“No! Stay your weapons. This is Peter’s battle.”

Peter passed Aslan’s tests, but now it was time to prove it to himself and his soldiers. He focused his attention on Maugrim, bolstered by Aslan’s belief in him.

“You may think you’re a king,” the wolf sneered, “But you’re going to die… like a dog!”

He leapt at Peter with a great snarl, and the two of them tumbled to the ground.

“Peter!” the three girls cried out.

They all jumped down from the tree and ran over to kneel at his side. Susan and (Y/N) shoved the wolf’s body away, fearing the worst, but Peter sat up, looking at the three of them with wide eyes. It was almost as if even he couldn’t believe he’d survived uncathed. A grin split across his face, and pulled the three of them into his arms, holding them tightly.

Off to the side, Aslan let up the other wolf, and it ran away literally with its tail between its legs, whimpering.

“After him,” Aslan said to Oreius. “He will lead you to Edmund.”

Oreius nodded and signalled the few soldiers behind him. They took off after the wolf.

Once they had gone, Aslan turned to the four children.

“Peter,” he called. “Clean your sword.”

Peter obeyed.

“Come, kneel.”

Again, Peter did as he was told, planting his sword in the ground as he knelt.

Aslan smiled fondly, then raised a paw to touch each of Peter’s shoulders.

“Rise,” he commanded. “Sir Peter Wolf’s-Bane… Knight of Narnia.”

Slowly, Peter rose from the ground, looking more kingly than ever before. Finally, (Y/N) thought, he had stepped into his destiny. She couldn’t help but feel proud. Lucy, Susan, and her all exchanged awed looks. When Peter sheathed his sword, they all three rushed to hug him.

“That was amazing, Peter!” (Y/N) told him.

“I’m just glad I got here in time,” he said honestly.

“It was all thanks to Susan’s quick thinking,” she said, looking up at the older girl.

Susan smiled modestly. “I just acted on instinct…”

“It was brilliant quick thinking, Su,” Lucy said, making her blush just a little.

“Alright, now, you three,” Peter said a little more firmly, “We had all better get some rest. We’ll want to be ready when they bring Edmund back.” He glanced at Aslan who was observing them peacefully.

With one last acknowledgement to Aslan, the four of them walked back, going their separate ways to get to their tents.

Exhaustion began to crash in on (Y/N), and she practically collapsed into bed. The events of the past few days - discovering the wreckage at Tumnus’ place, meeting the Beavers, escaping the Witch, crossing the river - were beginning to take their toll. Briefly, she remembered that she had meant to speak with Oreius about the stars, but sleep closed in before she could give it a second thought. It would have to wait til tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that for like two seconds during the river scene, you can clearly see Georgie Henley get replaced by a stunt double while they’re riding the ice slab? It’s only for like one two-second cut but I thought it was kind of hilarious how obvious it is. Anyways, what did you think of this part? Did you like Aslan’s chat with the reader or did you wish it had gone differently? Be sure to let me know in the comments!


	6. Written in the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long part. Again.

When morning came, the soft light of the dawn filtered through the flap of the tent, coaxing (Y/N) from her sleep. It was much earlier than she’d normally wake, but she felt more rested than ever, having gone to bed in the early evening the previous day. Lucy and Susan were still asleep, so (Y/N) slipped out quietly, trying not to wake them.

The sun hadn’t risen fully yet, and the sky was brushed with red and gold. (Y/N) didn’t have a destination in mind, but something drew her outside. As she gazed across the camp, taking in the scene, she spotted Oreius out of the corner of her eye. He must have come back from rescuing Edmund. Sure enough, she saw the fourth Pevensie boy following Aslan up to a grassy knoll, no doubt for a lengthy conversation.

Oreius spotted (Y/N) standing there, and she waved uncertainly. He gave an amused smile, so she headed over to him.

“Hello…”

“My lady,” he acknowledged, dipping his head. “Aslan said you might come to speak with me.”

(Y/N) nodded.

“Yeah… I mean, yes. He told me you could teach me about the stars?”

“Indeed, I can… though, perhaps, not at this precise moment.”

(Y/N) laughed softly. “Well that’s understandable…” The last of the stars were fading now.

Oreius looked thoughtful. “There is one I can show you… it is fortunate you awoke at this hour. There…” He pointed out a small, glimmering star that almost looked like a miniscule moon. “Aravir, the Morning Star. She greets us every day once the moon has set.”

(Y/N) watched the star in fascination.

“You must study the stars,” Oreius said, “Learn their names. For once you know them each by name, you may better understand what they mean to tell you.”

Just then, a curious thought occurred to (Y/N).

“Will they actually speak to me, with voices?” She paused. “Maybe that’s a silly question… it’s just that, in my world, stars aren’t alive. They aren’t people, they’re just objects in space.”

Oreius, thankfully, was understanding.

“They will not be heard, my lady, but the stars certainly are people. On occasion, they are even able to come down to speak with us, in a form similar to yours. But they could never be mistaken for human.”

“I think I see…” (Y/N) said. “So… it’s important to know the stars by name because their movement will tell me what I need to know about the future?”

Oreius nodded.

“When you become acquainted with them, you learn to see how they move, and why. Aslan tells me you are his Oracle… the Seer of Narnia. Your dreams will tell you what the stars do not, and when your dreams lack clarity, the stars will provide it.”

It shouldn’t have made sense, logically, but to (Y/N), it did. Everything Oreius told her made sense in her head. She knew what he meant, even through his poetic words.

“Come and speak to me tonight,” Oreius said. “I will bring Clemendia, for she is most adept at teaching on these matters.”

“Yes, sir,” (Y/N) said with a smile. He gave her a bit of a funny look at that, but he said nothing more.

Just then, off to the right, Peter stepped out of his tent, looking around until he spotted the two of them.

Oreius didn’t say a word, but directed his gaze to where Edmund still stood talking to Aslan. Peter’s face morphed from confusion to disbelief, then relief.

“Here is where I leave you, my lady,” Oreius told (Y/N).

She nodded to him. “I’ll meet you later on, then.”

With that, he took his leave.

(Y/N) walked over to Peter, who had stopped just in front of the girls’ tent. Susan walked out right then, smiling at the two of them when she spotted them. Lucy followed right behind. The two of them noticed what Peter was looking at, and their faces brightened.

“Edmund!” Lucy cried happily, rushing towards him. But, Peter gently caught her, holding her back. She seemed confused, but Peter knew that the conversation between his brother and the great lion needed to remain private.

Aslan and Edmund both looked over at the sound of Lucy’s voice. (Y/N) thought Edmund looked rather well, all things considered. Aslan gave him one last knowing nod, and the two of them began to walk towards the other children.

When Edmund finally stood before them, he avoided their gazes.

“What’s done is done,” Aslan told them all firmly. “There is no need to speak to Edmund about what is past.” He said nothing more as he turned away, leaving them all to speak alone.

Finally, Edmund looked up at them, hesitantly.

“Hello…” he murmured.

Lucy was the first to wrap him in a hug. Without even thinking of whether or not Edmund might think it odd, (Y/N) rushed to hug him as well, with Susan right behind.

He hugged each of them in turn, only pausing slightly at seeing (Y/N).

“Are you alright?” Susan asked him. Not in the bossy, motherly tone she had used at the beginning of the journey, but in a gentle, sisterly way.

“I’m a little tired,” Edmund admitted.

“Get some sleep,” Peter said kindly. Edmund must have misread his tone and expression, for he shrank slightly and turned to walk towards the tent.

“And Edmund…” Peter called after him. His brother faced him apprehensively. “Try not to wander off…” Immediately, the younger boy relaxed, a small smile making its way to his face.

He went off to the tent where Vitarius awaited, no doubt with fresh clothes and a real bed at the ready.

Later, once Edmund had woken again, a centaur (Y/N) didn’t recognize came to collect them all, letting them know that a lunch had been prepared for them. The food was quite wonderful, and they all enjoyed a leisurely meal. All except Edmund, that is. He ate as if there were no time left in the world.

Peter, having finished his meal, was standing off a ways with a cup in his hand, leaning against a little cliffside uphill. He looked deep in thought, and (Y/N) thought is best not to bother him just then.

“Narnia’s not going to run out of toast, Ed,” Lucy teased, getting a little chuckle from him.

“I’m sure they’ll pack something up for the journey back,” came Peter’s voice.

The other four looked at him in confusion.

“We’re going home?” Susan asked incredulously. (Y/N) thought it ironic that just a few days ago, she had been the one wanting to return so badly.

Peter sighed. “You are,” he told them, coming over to sit with them again. “I promised Mum I’d keep you three safe, and I daresay that extends to you too, (Y/N). You’re as good as blood family.” Looking around at their expectant faces, he continued. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t stay behind and help.”

While (Y/N) admired the sentiment, there was no way she was leaving the boy she’d come to love as a brother to fight this battle alone, and she knew the other three certainly wouldn’t stand for it.

“But they need us,” Lucy protested. “All _five_ of us.”

“Lucy, it’s too dangerous,” Peter said, willing her to understand. “You almost drowned! Edmund was almost killed! (Y/N) nearly froze to death the first day we got here!”

“Which is why we have to stay…” Edmund spoke up softly. He looked at each of them, seeming uncertain, but he pressed on anyways. “I’ve seen what the White Witch can do… and I’ve helped her do it. And we can’t leave these people behind to suffer for it.” With every word he spoke, his passion grew, as did his confidence.

Gone was the snarky, hateful boy (Y/N) had first met at Tumnus’ house. Now, she saw before her a lion-hearted friend, and a true brother. Peter had such a proud look on his face, it was a wonder he didn’t start glowing.

“I suppose that’s it, then,” Susan said decisively, rising from the table.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked.

She grabbed her bow and horn, turning back to them all with a sly grin.

“To get in some practice.”

And over the course of the next two weeks, that’s exactly what they did. The White Witch was oddly silent during that time, but Oreius told them that she must be recovering from their attack when they recovered Edmund. In addition to that, he said it would take time for her to gather her troops.

Luckily for the five children, this gave them plenty of time to prepare. Peter and Edmund had begun to train in swordsmanship under Oreius’ critical eye. By now, they had learned the basics, so the centaur had insisted they learn how to fight from horseback. At the moment, they were off somewhere sparring together.

(Y/N) had been carefully studying the stars with Oreius and Clemendia each night, and she had very nearly memorized all the important stars. Nearly. She had also managed to acquire a sword, and Clemendia seemed eager enough to teach her, though most days she spent practicing with Susan, so she wasn’t yet on the same skill level as the boys.

Susan and (Y/N) had both made good progress with their bows. At first, neither of them had even been able to hit the target. Although, (Y/N) rather thought Susan ought to be making much more progress than herself, since Father Christmas had said that her bow was enchanted not to miss. Susan was just missing that one key ingredient he’d also mentioned: trust. She was having a difficult time believing in both herself and her bow.

Nevertheless, the two of them were both able to hit the target now. (Y/N) only just barely, but progress still. Lucy often joined the two archers, sometimes even attempting to hit the target with her dagger just for the fun of it.

Today was one such day.

Susan stepped up to shoot first. Her arrow landed solidly, just inside the border of the black ring.

“Close one, Su,” (Y/N) encouraged.

“My closest one so far…” Though she didn’t seem terribly enthused.

“Just remember what Father Christmas said,” she reminded again.

“I know, I know,” Susan grumbled. “Go on then, it’s your turn now.”

(Y/N) readied her arrow, nocking it on the string. She slowly inhaled as she drew it back, her muscles much more accustomed to the weight now than they had first been. A beat passed, then… she let the arrow fly. It landed just to the right of Susan’s, slightly higher. That was definitely progress from the most outer ring.

“Nice shot, (Y/N)!” Susan said, grinning.

Lucy gave them both a knowing look, and drew her dagger. She threw it right at the center of the target, and it stuck there firmly.

“Wow, amazing job, Lu!” (Y/N) praised.

Just then, Peter and Edmund rode up over the ridge, into the bit of empty space beside the archery field. Evidently, their vigorous sparring had led them here. Peter sat atop a beautiful, white unicorn, and Edmund rode a handsome, chestnut stallion.

“Come on, Ed!” Peter called. “Sword point up, like Oreius showed us!”

The three girls paused in their own training and turned to watch.

“En garde!” Edmund saig, grinning.

“Now block!”

“Hey!”

“Peter! Edmund!” came a voice. It was Mr. Beaver, scurrying towards them. His approach startled Edmund’s horse, who reared up.

“Whoa, horsie!” he said.

The horse snorted in disdain. “My _name_ is Phillip,” he grumbled.

“Oh,” Edmund said, looking awkward. “Sorry…”

“The Witch has demanded a meeting with Aslan!” Mr. Beaver said urgently. “She’s on her way here. Everyone is gathering at Aslan’s tent.”

The girls rushed over to them upon overhearing the news.

“What does she want?” (Y/N) asked.

“Nobody knows,” Beaver replied, “But you all had better come quick!”

Peter reached down and helped Susan up onto the unicorn with him, and Edmund likewise brought (Y/N) and Lucy up onto Phillip. With Mr. Beaver running alongside them, they rode back to the main camp.

When they arrived, many of the troops had gathered there, murmuring amongst themselves. Oreius brought the children to stand close to Aslan’s tent, and sent Phillip and the unicorn to take some rest after the training session they’d just had with the boys. Soon, the crowd further towards the entrance of the camp began to jeer and hiss.

The irritating voice of the Witch’s cronie, a Black Dwarf, rang out above the din.

“Jadis, the Queen of Narnia!” he declared.

“Go away, Witch!” a faun shouted.

Undeterred, the dwarf continued.

“Empress of the Lone Islands!”

“You don’t belong here!”

“Go away!”

But her caravan came ever closer. Soon, she was within sight of the five children. Since Edmund had last seen her, she had abandoned her heavy, fur coat, and her crown of icicles had melted away to almost nothing. She sat atop a chair, carried by four brutish-looking cyclops. They brought her close to where Aslan awaited, then set the litter down so she could stand.

Ignoring the glares of the crowd which had now fallen silent, the Witch strode forward, eyeing Edmund as she approached Aslan.

“You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan.”

The troops all muttered amongst themselves. Everyone knew what Edmund had done, but Aslan had forgiven him, and that was more than enough for them. What was the Witch playing at?

“His offense was not against you,” Aslan said firmly.

“Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?”

Aslan snarled in response. “Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch. I was there when it was written.”

The Witch didn’t seem fazed by this. On the contrary, she looked almost pleased.

“Then you’ll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property.”

Swiftly, Peter drew his sword, and several soldiers behind him followed his lead.

“Try and take him, then,” he challenged, placing himself between his brother and the Witch.

She watched him, unimpressed.

“Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right… little king?” She turned away from him, watching Aslan as she continued. “Aslan knows that unless I have blood, as the law demands…” Turning dramatically, she addressed the whole crowd. “All of Narnia will be overturned… and perish in fire and water.”

Pointing accusingly at Edmund, she declared, “That boy will die! On the Stone Table… as is tradition. You dare not refuse me.”

The Narnia army protested, clamoring against her, but Aslan silenced everyone.

“Enough,” he spoke firmly. “I shall talk with you alone.” He said no more, and the White Witch followed him into his tent.

The five children looked at each other.

“What do you think will happen?” Lucy asked in a small voice.

“There’s no way Aslan will let her get away with this,” (Y/N) reassured, looking at Edmund.

“It sounds like there’s not much Aslan can do about it,” Edmund said, fixing his gaze on the ground.

“Don’t think like that,” Peter said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Aslan will find a way.”

There was only so much time they could spend attempting to reassure themselves that Aslan would fix everything before it got old. Lucy’s feet started to hurt, so she sat in the grass, and over time, the rest of the crowd followed suit. It felt as though they waited ages, but finally, the White Witch emerged.

Peter got to his feet, and the army followed his lead. A few fauns and satyrs came close to Edmund, as if ready to defend him, should Jadis try to take him. The Witch gave a long, hard look to Edmund, but turned away. The children all looked at each other. What did it mean?

Aslan exited the tent as the Witch returned to her litter. All eyes fell to him. The crowd waited with bated breath.

“She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam’s blood,” he declared.

The four children immediately wrapped Edmund in hugs and congratulations, and the army began to celebrate, but the Witch interrupted them.

“How do I know your promise will be kept?”

All attention returned to Aslan.

Rather than speak, he roared, so loudly that the White Witch fell back into her seat in fear. The Narnian troops laughed and cheered at that, resuming their celebration as the Witch was carried away.

Lucy hugged Edmund tightly once more, and he lifted her off the ground in his happiness. (Y/N) wrapped him in her arms next, then let him move away to receive congratulations from a group of Red Dwarves. It was then that she noticed Lucy watching Aslan. His gaze was heavy, and he looked back at (Y/N) and Lucy with great, sad eyes. Without joining the celebration, he turned and disappeared into his tent once more. Lucy became distracted by one of the dwarves giving his congratulations, but (Y/N)’s mind lingered on what she had seen.

Her dream was beginning to make much more sense… but she needed to consult the stars tonight to be certain. For now, she could let herself be happy.

By the time everyone had finished wishing Edmund their congratulations, it was nearly dark. The children went their separate ways to bed, and (Y/N) went to meet Oreius and Clemendia at the edge of the camp. They kept far enough away that the firelight wouldn’t interfere, but close enough to stay within the sight of the sentries should any danger occur.

“Now, tell me again, the names of the western stars,” Oreius said.

“The brightest is called… Nerilidan?”

Clemendia nodded approvingly, but Oreius kept his face passive.

“And what is her title?” Clemendia prompted.

“The Lady of Fortune.”

“Very good. Now, what does she tell you on this night?”

“Well…” (Y/N) looked at the stars closest to Nerilidan, carefully observing. “She’s passing nearby Berund, the Lord of Ages. They speak of a time of peace and prosperity for Narnia… a Golden Age. That’s referring to mine and my family’s arrival, isn’t it? The prophecy?”

Oreius smiled.

“Indeed, it is. You have learned much in these past weeks. Soon, you shall come to know the signs of the stars without our aid.”

“Tell me,” Clemendia said, “What do you see tonight? Your gifts have grown, and though I have not yet taught you all their names, I sense that you may hear what they wish you to, nevertheless. Look up at the heavens, my young Queen, and listen well.”

(Y/N) obeyed, turning her attention to the night sky above. Carefully, she looked over all of the stars, waiting to see which would draw her gaze. Finally, she pointed out a little cluster.

“There… those three. They have a message for me. But I’m unfamiliar with these… They’re sort of… confusing.”

Oreius and Clemendia exchanged glances.

“Those three?” Oreius asked. “Are you certain?”

“Yes…” (Y/N) said. “Why?”

Clemendia looked troubled as she answered, “Diavera, the Lady of Despair, Tolovere, the Lord of Grief… and Camalkin, the Lady of Hope.”

“That’s… an odd combination,” (Y/N) murmured.

“Indeed, it is…” Oreius said. “But if they are speaking to you, it must be of great importance.”

(Y/N) paused, thinking it over, then suddenly, it clicked.

“Oh…” She looked up at the two centaurs. “I have to go…”

Clemendia nodded. “As you must, my lady.”

(Y/N) quickly rushed off to find Aslan, hoping she wasn’t too late. When she arrived at his tent, he had only just stepped out.

“Aslan!” she whispered softly. He turned his knowing gaze to her.

“You understand now,” he said softly.

“Yes…” (Y/N) said, stepping closer, until he could have knocked her over with his nose if he had wanted to. “You’re taking Edmund’s place, aren’t you?” Aslan said nothing, but the look in his eyes confirmed her words. “But that’s not all… there’s something to do with magic. You’re going to be okay in the end, aren’t you? Isn’t that why the stone in my dream was broken? And why Camalkin, the Lady of Hope was speaking to me?”

“Oreius and Clemendia have taught you well,” Aslan said simply.

“Can I come with you, Aslan?” she asked softly. “You shouldn’t be alone…”

He regarded her with a gentle look. “If you wish, dear one. But you must promise you will not tell the others of what you know.”

(Y/N) frowned at that. “But Aslan, why not? They’ll be so heartbroken.”

“I know, dear (Y/N), but they must come into their own without me. I will not always be around during your reign, and they must learn how to stand on their own. If they know of the Deep Magic, then they will rely on my power rather than their own. Do you understand?”

“I… I think so,” (Y/N) said. “They have to prove to _themselves_ what they’re capable of…”

Aslan nodded. “Indeed… Can you promise this to me?”

“I promise, Aslan.”

“Good… then we must be off. Jadis will be expecting me.”

(Y/N) gently threaded her fingers in his mane, and he led her along past the rest of the tents, to the edge of the woods and beyond. She was rather glad she had forgotten to take off her sword, bow, and compass before meeting Oreius. They might come in handy if she would be facing the Witch soon. After a while, Aslan paused.

“Shouldn’t you both be in bed?” he said softly.

(Y/N) turned to see Lucy and Susan coming out from behind a tree.

“We couldn’t sleep…” Lucy said.

“Please, Aslan,” Susan said, “Couldn’t we come with you?”

He looked to (Y/N) with those same, sad eyes.

“I would be glad of the company for a while. Thank you.”

Lucy and Susan mirrored (Y/N) on his other side, gently petting his mane as he began to walk once more. He said nothing more to the three of them until they had seemingly arrived at their destination.

“It is time,” he said with a knowing look at (Y/N). “From here, I must go on alone.”

“But Aslan…” Susan started.

“You have to trust me, for this must be done,” he replied gently. “Thank you, Susan. Thank you, Lucy. Thank you, (Y/N)... and farewell.”

He turned and walked on, alone.

(Y/N) could only watch as he went, her heart heavy. Once he had gone a ways away, she turned to head back, but Susan had other ideas. She cut across, to the side, finding a vantage point, from which the three of them could see the Witch’s army crowded around the Stone Table.

Reluctantly, (Y/N) followed. She couldn’t exactly stop them…

They watched as Aslan climbed the steps up to the Table, enduring the jeers and taunts of all manner of dark creatures without protest. They were clearly all afraid of him. (Y/N) wagered that their confidence was hanging by the thread of the White Witch’s guarantee of the deal.

Speaking of Jadis, she stood atop the Table, holding a knife in her hands. When Aslan reached the foot of the Table, she said something that made her troops laugh and sneer, but it was too far away for the girls to be able to hear. Her minotaur second-in-command stepped up, and with a nod from her, knocked Aslan to the ground with his axe. The wretched creatures all cheered.

“Why doesn’t he fight back?” Lucy asked desperately, but (Y/N) said nothing.

“Bind him!” they heard the Witch shout. Her creatures eagerly moved to do just that, but she stopped them with another inaudible command.

The soldiers converged on Aslan again, blocking the girls’ view of him. It was only when they saw the fur flying that they realized what was happening.

Once that was over with, they slowly dragged him up onto the Table in front of the Witch. The cheering and shrieking and roaring grew louder and louder until the Witch silenced them with a wave of her hand. Then, it started.

A circle of hags banged their staffs against the ground in rhythm. Somewhere, tambourines joined in, and wolves howled in harmony.

The Witch leaned down to speak to Aslan, far too quietly for the girls to hear, but when she stood once more, she shouted over the crowd.

“Tonight… the Deep Magic… will be appeased! But tomorrow… we will take Narnia… forever!”

The crowd cheered and screeched wildly, the music picking up in tempo.

“In that knowledge, despair… and DIE!”

(Y/N) flinched when the Witch brought the knife down on Aslan. Beside her, Lucy and Susan gasped. Knowing what was coming hadn’t made it any easier to watch. She and the other two began to cry. Lucy and Susan held each other tightly.

“The great cat… is DEAD!” the Witch cried. Her eyes were do dark, they almost looked black, as if reflecting the evil in her soul. She turned to the minotaur. “General,” she called to him, over the din of celebration. “Prepare your troops for battle. However short it may be…”

And then, they were gone. Just like that, it was all over. Aslan was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we got to see a bit more of Reader’s interactions with the Narnians around her! What do you think of her abilities? And, bear with me, I have an idea of doing something interesting, and asking a sort of “Audience Question” at the end of each chapter… So here goes nothing, may as well try it out!
> 
> How do you picture Clemendia the centaur(ess)? What does she look like in your mind, from her human features to her horse half? I have my own ideas, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	7. A Moment to Last Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So with this part, we conclude the movie’s worth (mostly). I’m going to spend some time in the Golden Era before we move on to the return from Narnia and then to Prince Caspian!

The Witch left Aslan there. Perhaps she intended to return for him after the war, to make a further mockery of the great lion. But, (Y/N) thought with great satisfaction, that would never happen. Once the three girls were certain the Witch’s forces had all gone, they darted from their hiding place, rushing up to the table.

Lucy climbed the steps right in front and sat beside Aslan. She reached for her cordial, but Susan gently stopped her.

“It’s too late,” she said softly. “He’s gone…”

She made her way over and climbed the stairs to the left while (Y/N) went to the ones on the right.

(Y/N)’s heart was so unbearably heavy. Knowing the truth of the matter couldn’t help her in this moment. To see him lying there with no life and no breath, it was hard to believe he would be back. But as she turned her gaze to the stars above, they said just the same as they had before. Hope.

Still, hope couldn’t stop her tears from falling.

“He must have known what he was doing,” Susan whispered, resting her hand on the back of his head.

Lucy’s face scrunched up with tears, and she leaned close to Aslan, resting against his great head as she softly petted his nose. Susan hugged his neck, crying as well, and (Y/N) laid herself across his middle, sobbing freely when she couldn’t feel the rise and fall of his breath.

Just then, a curious little noise drew the attention of the three girls. They all sat up, searching for the source of the noise. All along the ropes that bound Aslan, clusters of mice had formed.

“Get away!” Susan cried. “Get away, all of you!”

“No,” Lucy said, realizing something. “Look…”

The mice were not, as Susan had thought, chewing away at Aslan, but rather, at the ropes that held him. Of course, (Y/N) realized. When Aslan came back, he would need to be untied. These mice had been summoned by Deep Magic.

Susan began to undo the ties as well, and Lucy drew her dagger to cut through the more stubborn knots. (Y/N) helped the mice by pulling away the bits they had chewed through. In mere seconds, Aslan was free. At least some of his dignity had been restored.

“We have to tell the others…” Susan said.

“We can’t just leave him!” Lucy protested, and (Y/N) had to agree.

“Lucy, there’s no time,” Susan insisted. “They need to know.”

She was right, of course. But (Y/N) couldn’t leave Aslan’s side, not when she knew what she knew. Luckily, Lucy saved her from having to come up with an excuse.

“The trees!” she whispered urgently.

Susan’s pained expression lifted at that. “They can carry our message…” she reasoned.

“And we can stay with Aslan,” (Y/N) said.

Lucy turned to rush towards the treeline, but a swirl of leaves was already beginning to form before the Table.

“Your Majesties…” spoke the form. “It does my heart good to see the three of you on this night of tragedy.”

Lucy tentatively waved, keeping one hand secured in Aslan’s mane for comfort.

“Can you send word to our brothers?” Susan asked her. “They must know about all this… and of the Witch’s plan.”

The dryad nodded. “We shall see it done.”

Quickly, the leaves of her form scattered in a soft breeze, floating back to the forest where another tree took up the call. The wind carried all kinds of leaves from tree to tree until the three girls could no longer see them.

“What do we do now?” (Y/N) asked softly.

“We stay,” Lucy said. “We watch over him…”

Susan nodded resolutely, looking sadly at the great lion once more.

“We’ll stay until morning… and after the battle, we’ll come back for him. To put him to rest properly…”

(Y/N) said nothing.

Lucy rested her head against Aslan’s, gently petting him.

All three girls stayed there in silence, until one by one, they drifted off into a wearisome slumber. The exhaustion of grief had finally caught up to them all.

The next thing (Y/N) was aware of was a soft gray light behind her eyelids. The light of day, though hidden by clouds, gently roused her, alongside the crick in her neck from sleeping atop the Stone Table with only Aslan for a pillow.

Beside her, Susan and Lucy also sat up, taking in the now-lit surroundings.

“We should go…” Susan said.

(Y/N) didn’t know how to tell her they needed to stay without giving away the truth of the matter.

“But…” she started, faltering for an excuse.

“They need us in the battle, (Y/N),” Susan said in a firm but kind tone. “It’s what Aslan would have wanted.”

(Y/N) sighed and stood from the Table, along with Lucy. There was nothing to be done about the matter, so it seemed.

“I’m so cold,” Lucy said as Susan took them both under her arms. Indeed, since last night, they all had felt the presence of the White Witch’s power, as if Aslan’s death had brought back a small taste of her wintery bite.

The three girls paused at the top of the stairs, taking one last look at Aslan, before they turned to go. They hadn’t gone but two steps when a sudden wind howled through the valley, accompanied by a great _crack_ that rang through the air. The very ground beneath them shook with a great quake that sent all of them tumbling to the ground. Susan took hold of Lucy and (Y/N) so that they wouldn’t tumble down the stairs.

(Y/N) immediately looked to the Stone Table. What she saw put a great smile on her face, but before she could remark on it, Lucy cried out worriedly.

“Susan, (Y/N), look!”

The three of them hurried back up to the Table. Just like the great slab of stone in (Y/N)’s dream, it had been split down the middle by a great crack. Aslan was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Aslan?” Lucy asked just then.

“What have they done?” Susan asked. She must have thought the Witch’s soldiers had put some sort of curse over the Table.

Suddenly, the clouds parted behind the stone frame, revealing the glory of the blazing sun, shining out behind the great lion himself. There he stood, his mane restored to its full glory. Aslan seemed even more full of life than he had been before, if that was even possible.

“Aslan!” (Y/N) said happily, just at the same time as the other two exclaimed in relief. All of them rushed forward and threw their arms around him. He came to meet them halfway, chuckling as the force of their affection nearly sent him back a step. Gently, he nuzzled each of them comfortingly in turn.

“But we saw the knife!” Susan exclaimed. “The Witch…”

“If the Witch knew the true meaning of sacrifice, she might have interpreted the Deep Magic differently,” Aslan replied. He led them around the Table, nodding to the inscription along the sides. “That when a willing victim who has committed no treachery is killed in a traitor’s stead, the Stone Table will crack… and even death itself will turn backwards.

“We sent the news that you were dead,” Susan recalled. “Peter and Edmund will have gone to war.”

“It had to happen that way,” (Y/N) explained softly.

Before Susan could ask what she meant, Lucy drew her dagger. “We have to help them,” she said.

Aslan chuckled fondly and gently put the dagger down with his paw. “We will, dear one, but not alone. Climb on my back.” He laid down so they could more easily reach, and the girls happily obeyed. “We have far to go,” he continued, “And little time to get there.” Once they were all secure, he stood again. “And you may want to cover your ears…”

With that warning given, he gave a great roar, as if celebrating his return to life. Quickly, he took off running, not back towards the way they had come, but in the opposite direction, away from the camp and the battlefield.

“Where are we going?” Susan asked at last.

Aslan didn’t answer, but, as it turned out, there was no need for him too. At that moment, the Witch’s castle became visible over the tops of the trees. Where before, it had looked so intimidating, now it seemed that its power of fear had faded with the winter. The icy spires were drastically out of place amidst the beautiful, sparkling waters of the lake. In truth, it was almost pitiful. 

“Hang on!” Aslan called. He swiftly carried them over the bridge and into the courtyard. The first time they had all been here, (Y/N) had been terrified of what lay behind these gates, but with Aslan at her side, all of those fears now melted away.

Inside the courtyard, the Witch’s collection of statues scattered the path. All kinds of creatures stood frozen there before them; satyrs, centaurs, and big cats of all kinds… Edmund had told them of Tumnus’ fate just the previous week. Lucy had been heartbroken, but remained strong. Now, the youngest girl rushed through the courtyard, searching for the faun, with (Y/N) close behind.

There were a fair few fauns there, but none of them were their dear friend. Most were wearing armor… Finally, they caught sight of a statue. The faun wore an unmistakably familiar scarf. Lucy stood frozen in front of him. (Y/N) felt numb inside. She hugged Lucy tightly, fighting back tears. Lucy couldn’t stop her sobs when Susan wrapped her arms around them both.

Aslan came over to them. (Y/N) turned her attention to him. He stepped up close to Tumnus and gave a great sigh, his breath washing over the statue, rustling through the faun’s hair despite the stone. It was quite curious, what happened next. Faintly, the thump of a heartbeat could be heard. Then, with an odd, crackling sound, color began to return to Mister Tumnus’s face. The stone transformed back into flesh, and the faun began to breathe again. When the transformation was complete, he nearly fell forward, but Lucy and (Y/N) caught him. (Y/N) couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

Tumnus looked up, his face brightening with a smile when he recognized the two of them.

“Susan,” Lucy called, “This is--”

“Mister Tumnus!” Susan said happily, hugging the faun tightly.

Before Tumnus had a chance to respond, Aslan’s voice rang out.

“Come,” he called to them. Behind him, an assortment of other Narnians had also been freed from the stone forms. “We must hurry and search the castle. Peter will need everyone we can find.”

And so, that’s just what they did. Tumnus and Lucy went off one way, while Susan and (Y/N) took the other corridor. The Narnians from the courtyard joined them, and soon, the whole castle had been scoured. Aslan led the troops outside where they assembled, ready for battle. There were gryphons and bears, and even a giant, all of them quite happy to see Aslan at long last. When he told them of the battle, each and every one of the Narnians rescued from the Witch’s castle eagerly volunteered to help. They were all too eager for justice. And so, they were off to the battlefield, ready to stop the Witch.

They arrived just in time, as it seemed. Rom the top of the hill, (Y/N) could see Peter standing right in front of the Witch, both of them momentarily distracted by Aslan’s presence. When Jadis tried to take advantage of Peter’s attention, (Y/N) quickly found a trusty Narnian horse to carry her down into the fray. She would have to be sure to learn his name later.

Aslan easily outraced all of the troops, headed straight for the Witch. (Y/N) trusted him to save Peter, and focused on firing arrow after arrow to thin out the Witch’s army. Her new friend, a midnight-colored stallion, nimbly maneuvered them through the chaos. The troops that had been rescued from the castle easily tilted the scales in their favor. Those dark creatures stood no chance.

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw the Witch knock Peter to the ground, and her heart nearly stopped, but just before Jadis could deliver the fatal blow, Aslan appeared. He leapt out of nowhere and pinned the Witch down. Within moments, it was over. (Y/N)’s horse friend brought her over to Peter, and she slipped down from his back to wrap him in a tight hug.

“Peter, you’re alright!” she said happily. He held her tightly, looking back at Aslan in amazement. (Y/N) turned her attention to him as well.

“It is finished,” Aslan said simply, looking at them both.

Suddenly, from behind them, Lucy and Susan came running up, calling for Peter. He turned, smiling in relief when he saw them, and he took Lucy into his arms without hesitation. Susan, however, noticed something wrong.

“Where’s Edmund?”

Peter’s face dropped, and he took off running, the girls close behind. He must have seen Edmund fall, because Peter knew right where to go. When the four of them got there, Ginarrbrik the dwarf was ready to let his axe fall on Edmund, but Susan’s arrow easily took him down. Despite the gravity of the situation, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a little proud that the older girl had finally learned to trust in her bow.

The children quickly ran over to kneel at Edmund’s side. He was gasping for breath, barely hanging on. Susan pulled his helmet off, tilting his head so he might get more air.

“Lucy, your cordial!” (Y/N) said urgently.

Lucy took it from her belt and unstoppered the top. Delicately, she let one single drop fall into Edmund’s mouth. They all waited breathlessly… but Edmund went still. Peter’s face twisted with grief, and Lucy and Susan began to cry. (Y/N) gripped the sleeve of Peter’s chain mail, trying to stifle her own sobs, when suddenly, Edmund gasped for breath. He gave a couple of small coughs, then opened his eyes, looking up at the other four in confusion.

Peter pulled him into a tight hug.

“When are you gonna learn to do as you’re told?” he laughed in relief.

All five of them pulled each other close, holding the others tightly. Finally, their little family was safe. They only reluctantly broke apart when Edmund noticed Aslan drawing near. Curiously, they all watched as he breathed life back into one of the Witch’s stone victims. The two boys watched in amazement, not having seen this particular bit of magic yet.

Lucy looked down at her cordial, then at a fallen soldier. With a quick grin at the others, she ran over to the injured faun and gave a drop to him, then she went on to a nearby centaur, and so forth and so forth. She tended to the wounded and dying while Aslan restored the stone soldiers.

(Y/N) found her horse friend, whose name she learned to be Haveron, and they set about scouring the hills for victims for Aslan and Lucy to aid. Along the way, Clemendia spotted them and galloped over.

“My lady!” she said with a smile. “How good it is to see you…”

“And you!” (Y/N) said leaning over to hug her. Clemendia seemed surprised by that, but she returned the gesture nevertheless. It was then (Y/N) noticed that Clemendia’s look of relief was accompanied by a shadow of grief.

“What’s wrong?”

Clemendia looked away, stamping her front hooves.

“It’s Oreius…” she replied at last. “The Witch turned him to stone during the battle…” Brave warrior that she was, Clemendia did not let her tears fall, though (Y/N) could tell that it pained her greatly.

“Then we must find him and show him to Aslan!” (Y/N) said. “He can break the spell! Where is Oreius?”

Clemendia seemed hopeful as she led the way there. Aslan came alongside them as they walked, and when they arrived, gently breathed over Oreius. Just as with all the others, the stone slowly melted away, leaving a living, breathing Narnian behind. As the last of the spell vanished, the sword fell from Oreius’ hand, and he stumbled as his hooves met the ground once more, but Clemendia reached out to steady him.

Oreius paused when he saw her. Neither of them seemed to want to let go first, and the look they shared seemed to last forever, until they both realized they had a trio of observers standing mere feet away. Oreius cleared his throat and stepped back.

“My lady…” he said with a nod to Clemendia.

Her tail swished back and forth in embarrassment, but she nodded to him in return.

(Y/N) grinned at them both knowingly. “Well I’ll just leave you two be… Haveron and I are off to find anymore of the living.”

Without waiting for a reply, Haveron carried them both away.

“Do you think they’ll tell each other how they feel?” she asked him with a giggle.

Haveron snorted in amusement as he galloped along the rock paths.

“Centaurs are wise, but wisdom does not equate to common sense,” he said. “Especially in matters of the heart.”

Once the last wounded soldier had been healed and the last stone Narnian had been restored, Aslan led a great procession to Cair Paravel, where, immediately upon arrival, the five children were whisked away to be tended to. Their injuries were cleaned and dressed, they were given thorough baths, and then, they were each presented with a fresh set of clothes.

Apparently, there were many preparations to be made before the crowning ceremony could actually take place, but in a few days’ time, the five would officially be named Kings and Queens. Until then, they were quite eager to explore Cair Paravel.

Over the days to come, (Y/N) learned the quickest ways to get from room to room. Susan discovered a few secluded balconies where they all might go to get away if needed, and Edmund found three hidden alcoves. Lucy showed the others to a beautiful tapestry, hidden away in a treasury room, and Peter brought them up to the lookout towers to show them the view from above. With their combined explorations, the five children had quite thoroughly gotten the layout of the castle by the time the coronation day came.

Every soldier wore ceremonial armor. Some held Narnian banner proudly for all to see. All that could fit had gathered there in the throne room, and everyone else lined the pathways and staircases outside. At the entrance, awaiting their cue, the children waited alongside Aslan, each dressed in the most magnificent finery any of them had ever seen in their lives.

When the horns sounded, Aslan led the five down the aisle where two parallel rows of centaurs stood at the ready with their swords drawn into an archway. He took them up to the dais where five ivory thrones awaited, standing proudly before an intricate stained-glass window. Each throne had an engraving that represented each of them. On Edmund’s, at the far left, there was the sword that Oreius had given to him. Next, for Peter, his sword, which Aslan had dubbed Rhindon, was masterfully recreated in the stone. In the middle came (Y/N)’s, with the symbol of a compass, like one might find in the key of a map. Then, Susan’s depicted the horn Father Christmas had gifted her, and finally, Lucy’s was of her cordial.

As the five children moved to stand before their thrones, Aslan turned to address the crowd.

“To the Glistening Eastern Sea,” he began. “I give you Queen Lucy, The Valiant.”

The Beavers came up to the dais, carrying five crowns on a set of velvet pillows. Mister Tumnus, who was wearing a brand new scarf of emerald-colored velvet, took the first crown, a delicate circlet of silver with pale white flowers adorning it, and placed it upon Lucy’s head.

“To the Great Western Wood,” Aslan continued, as Tumnus placed a grand, silver crown on Edmund’s head, “King Edmund, the Just.”

Next, he picked up a gold crown with yellow flowers as Aslan called out, “To the Radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle.”

Then, Tumnus brought a grand crown of gold over to Peter, the largest one of them all.

“To the clear Northern Sky,” Aslan said, “King Peter, The Magnificent.”

Now, only one crown remained. To (Y/N), Tumnus brought a delicate but sturdy crown of some unknown metal as black as the night sky. Similar in design to Lucy and Susan’s, it was inlaid with a scattering of small diamonds that sparkled like stars.

“And to the splendid Heavens above that unite all lands,” Aslan said, “I give you the Lady of the Stars, Queen (Y/N), the Resilient.”

All five of them sat upon their thrones, and Aslan turned to look at them proudly.

“Once a King or Queen of Narnia,” he said to them knowingly, “Always a King or Queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens.”

Then, he turned to the crowd, and they too took up the call as he declared, “Long live King Edmund! Long live King Peter! Long live Queen (Y/N)! Long live Queen Susan! Long live Queen Lucy!”

As the cheers went down the line of the thrones, each of the children smiled at their names being called. The Narnians’ happiness was tangible in that moment, as if all the land were touched by some great magic. It was a moment to last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s that! Time to begin the Golden Era! What kind of adventures do you want to see happen there? I have one solid idea, but I’d love to hear your feedback! Also, what did you think of Oreius and Clemendia? That just kind of happened lol, the characters got away from me.
> 
> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	8. Lost in Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is finally a “normal” sized part lol, it may seem short in comparison to the rest of the series but those have been excessively long. I hope you enjoy this bit of the Golden Age!

Haveron galloped through the woods with (Y/N) atop his back, hooves thundering down onto the path below. Her cape fluttered in the wind behind them as they rode along, not with any purpose in mind, but simply for the sake of the rushing wind and the wood-filtered sunlight. The riding dress which she wore was white with an outer skirt layer and corset that both matched the emerald shade of her cloak. She hung tight to Haveron’s mane as he leapt over a fallen tree, then splashed through a small creek, making them both laugh in joy. (Y/N) had long ago learned how to ride without the aid of a saddle, for Narnian horses much preferred that dignity, and she found it much easier to maneuver in battle that way as well.

“Queen (Y/N)!” called a voice.

Gently, she nudged Haveron’s shoulder, signalling him to stop. A second set of hoofbeats came up beside them. It was Oreius.

“Oreius, how many times must I tell you to simply call me (Y/N)?” she laughed, patting Haveron’s neck.

“Perhaps once more, (Y/N),” he replied, amused. “Though you know I must maintain propriety in front of the court.”

“Well I don’t see the court anywhere around,” she said.

Oreius nodded. “And yet it is a court matter that I’ve come to speak with you about…”

(Y/N) snorted. “Oh I know just what you’ve come for. I told Peter there was no need, but he insists…”

“It’s not every day the Queen turns eighteen,” Oreius replied.

“It’s happened once before with Susan and it shall happen once more with Lucy,” she said, waving dismissively. “I don’t need a celebration…”

“Come, (Y/N),” Oreius said. “Your brother simply wants to do this for you. They all do… and your subjects do as well.”

(Y/N) sighed in good-natured irritation. “For the love of my people, then,” she said, “I shall celebrate as never before.”

Oreius bowed his head, unable to hide a pleased smirk.

“Haveron, my friend, if you would be so kind as to escort the Queen back to Cair Paravel…”

“And will the General be escorting us?” (Y/N) asked playfully. “After all, you have a wife and a young son to get back to…”

Oreius’ face brightened with pride at the mention of Clemendia and their son, Glenstorm. Once the two centaurs had finally realized (and admitted) their affections, the Kings and Queens had most joyously set about preparing everything for their union. Just a few short years later, they had happily welcomed a young foal into the world.

“But of course,” Oreius said, “We shall return at once.” The centaur’s cool composure would not betray his excitement to any unfamiliar with him, but to (Y/N) who knew him well, she could tell just how much he wished to see his family again, even after such a brief time apart.

With that said, Oreius led the way back to the castle, with Haveron close behind.

Upon arrival, (Y/N) noticed the celebratory banners hung in place, and the servants that bustled about. Though she thought it rather over the top, a small, secret part of her still adored the sentiment behind it. Once she dismounted, Haveron trotted off to assist in any way he could, and Oreius took his leave with a bow.

(Y/N) didn’t get far at all before Peter strode up to her. He wore a bright grin, pulling her under his arm.

“There you are, (Y/N)! Thought you could hide from the celebration, did you?”

“Not at all,” she laughed, wrapping her arm around his middle in return. “I simply wished to start the day off in my own way, that’s all.”

Peter nodded in understanding. “Of course, of course, as you should. But now, dear (Y/N), we must all get ready for the feast.”

“As you command, dear brother,” she teased with a grin and a mock bow.

He rolled his eyes, poorly concealing a grin, then ruffled her hair, which was still messy from her ride.

“Go on now,” Peter insisted. “Leave everything to me.”

(Y/N) waved and headed off to her chambers, unclasping her cloak from her shoulders. When she reached her room, she tossed it over the back of her desk chair and sat down at the vanity.

As she began to brush her hair, her mind wandered with thoughts of the stars. They had spoken to her of a time of peace, but still they foretold a dangerous battle to come. Her dreams hadn’t yet warned that this time was near, but (Y/N) had been certain to inform the others. Peter had given orders for the army to be prepared. Oreius, eager to protect his son, had readily agreed.

Still, (Y/N) thought to herself, shaking off these morbid thoughts, tonight was not the time to dwell on such things. Tonight was a time of happiness and celebration throughout the kingdom. And so it was on the occasion of any of the Kings’ or Queens’ birthdays. The Narnians loved their rulers, and wanted to show their appreciation any way and any time they were able.

(Y/N)’s dryad maidservant had laid out a beautiful gown for her, one that she had never seen before. The underskirt and bodice were the same shade of blue as the Northern Sky, decorated with silver embroidery.

Once she was ready, the sky had begun to go dark, with just the dusk upon the beach to illuminate the castle. She stepped out of her room to find Peter standing there, ready to escort her to the celebration. He offered his arm, and (Y/N) took it with a grin. Together, they walked along until they came to their destination.

The grand ballroom had been carefully prepared for a grand feast. As many Narnians as possible had been invited, and even some Archenland allies were present. Peter brought (Y/N) up to the table at the front of the room and helped to seat her. He remained standing, however, and the room fell silent.

“Narnians,” Peter spoke, “And esteemed guests of Archenland… I, King Peter, welcome you here tonight.” He took up a golden goblet in his hands, to make toasts no doubt. “We come here tonight to celebrate our dearest Queen (Y/N). Today marks her eighteenth year, a great milestone.”

Peter turned to her, raising the goblet. All of the guests stood, lifting their goblets as well. (Y/N)’s face grew warm from the attention.

“To Queen (Y/N), the Resilient, on this most special day… and may there be many more like it!”

“To the Queen!” the crowd repeated, but no one drank yet.

(Y/N) took her cue and stood, taking up a goblet in her hand. She looked out over her people with a fond smile.

“My friends,” she began, “I am truly blessed by Aslan himself to have governed over such a fine people these last five years. You honor me tonight, just as I hope to serve you honorably and justly. I can only pray that the Great Lion will grant me to stand watch over subjects such as you until the end of my reign… Until the stars rain down from the heavens!”

The people cheered, and all drank together, and their joy seemed to be contagious. (Y/N) smiled brightly at Peter and the others. It was the best birthday she could possibly have asked for.

Until that night, anyways.

It felt like an age since she’d dreamt, but tonight (Y/N) felt the full force of her gift. At once when her eyes closed, she was taken up into a prophetic vision.

As far as the eye could see, nothing but cobblestone stretched out to the horizons. The sky above was lined with gray clouds. There before her, what she saw chilled her to the bone.

In these dreams, (Y/N) had no physical form. It was rather like watching a movie, if it were possible to experience the camera’s point of view within the world. That never made the difficult visions easier, and it certainly didn’t help now.

A dark, red stain painted the cobblestone beneath a body, impaled by three bolts from a crossbow. The lifeless figure was wrapped in a cloak of the same color as the blood around it, and as (Y/N)’s view came closer, she found herself looking into her own glassy eyes. The clouds above were black now, and a peal of thunder split the sky--

Then, she woke with a start.

Her bedsheets clung to her sweat-soaked form, tangling her in a web of cloth. As quickly as she could manage, (Y/N) freed herself and leapt from the bed, pushing open a set of glass doors to reach her balcony.

Truly, Aslan must have instructed the castle to be built with the unique needs of the five in mind. The tower which held (Y/N)’s bedchambers included a balcony which allotted her the best view of the night sky in all of Cair Paravel.

Desperately, she looked to the heavens, hoping that her subjects above might have reassuring words to whisper to her, but the stars were hard and cold, and their voices were silent. (Y/N) found no comfort from them that night, for they had nothing to say. The stars knew no more than she, and so they could not help her, or offer her even a little solace.

Unless Aslan himself deigned to speak to her, it seemed that (Y/N) was truly on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun... What do you think it means? Did you like what I did with Oreius and Clemendia? What would you like to see happen next?
> 
> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter in the comments below! Thanks for reading!


	9. The Red Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wraps up the first movie’s worth! Let me know what you think!

“The Calormen troops are moving swiftly from the South. King Lune sent word this morning. Their scouts say that the Calormen are moving through the Great Desert.”

Edmund stood at the head of the table, looking over a map as he spoke. He rested his hands on the table as he studied the potential troop movements. In the tent with him were only two of his siblings, Lucy and (Y/N), along with Oreius, their ever faithful general. Peter and Susan had remained behind at Cair Paravel to handle other matters whilst the three of them took care of their business in Archenland.

(Y/N), now the strong age of twenty-seven, sighed, shaking her head.

“How cowardly to attack in such a time… What man would dare?”

Oreius lightly stamped a hoof, shifting his weight.

“And yet it is clear that the Calormen have no shame. Your foresight has told us as much.”

“There is nothing to be done about that,” Edmund said. “Let us focus on protecting the Archen people.”

“I have no doubt Prince Rabadash is behind this,” Lucy said.

“Of course,” (Y/N) said disdainfully. The Kings and Queens remembered well how he had attempted to force Susan into a marriage. “He must have manipulated his father,” (Y/N) continued. “It used to be that the Tisroc feared Narnian magic, so much so that he would not even dare attack our allies.”

Lucy shook her head. “It seems that scorn and rejection are powerful tools for this selfish prince…”

“Enough speculation,” Edmund said. “The time has come. Oreius, please help King Lune prepare for this attack.”

The centaur nodded, then trotted away to prepare.

Edmund stood straight, leaning away from the table.

“Lucy, if you would send word to prepare messengers? We must make those at Cair Paravel aware of this battle to come.” She nodded and went off to fulfill the request.

When the others had all gone, Edmund fixed his gaze on (Y/N), his expression unreadable.

“Have your dreams revealed anything more? Perhaps the stars have news?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“No… I’m afraid there’s been nothing.”

But that wasn’t quite true. The previous night, she’d dreamed again, the same one as the night she’d turned eighteen. She certainly wasn’t about to worry Edmund with that, though.

“Tell it to me again,” Edmund said. “Let me think over what we know one last time.”

(Y/N) nodded.

“In my dream, I saw the aftermath of a battle: A field littered with banners and armor and weapons, of Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen. There were no bodies in sight, but the sky was red… The stars foretold a great battle, but a Narnian-Archen victory.”

Edmund nodded at her words, then sighed, shaking his head.

“I dread to think of the lives this will cost us…” he said tiredly. “In this Golden Age of peace, too.”

“We fight to preserve that peace, Edmund,” (Y/N) said, resting a hand on his arm. “And our soldiers go willingly. They want to fight for their land. We are not the Calormen or the Telmarines, drafting the young into unending war. It is Rabadash and his father who court war in this Age.”

“I had thought, or rather _hoped_ that Calormen was beginning to move on,” Edmund said.

(Y/N) shook her head. “It’s all about the leader, Edmund. Archenland has King Lune. The Narnians have you, they have Lucy and Susan and Peter and I. We care for each of our subjects, we mourn each loss, and it makes us hesitate to wage war. Can the Tisroc of the Calormen say the same?”

Edmund gave her a small smile, taking her hand in his. “How right you are, (Y/N).” He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You never cease to amaze me. You and Lucy… Who would have thought that the youngest of our siblings would be the wisest?”

(Y/N) laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “You’re barely older than me, Ed, don’t go getting an ego… Though Aslan certainly knew how things would be.”

“But of course,” Edmund said. “The Lion always knows. Now come, let us face these Calormen together.”

* * *

The battle was brutal. When the Calormen army clashed with the Narnians, the chaos of war erupted there in the field before the castle. (Y/N) had lost track of Edmund somewhere in the fray, and the section of soldiers she was leading had been cut off by a column of Calormen troops.

“Haveron, where is Edmund?” she called to her Horse.

Before he could answer, however, a blow to her left shoulder knocked her from his back.

Her whole body throbbed from the impact with the ground, and when she moved, a sharp pain flared in her shoulder. A quick glance revealed she’d been struck by an arrow. That set her heart pounding. Was this her vision? No, it couldn’t be…

Back in the present moment, she realized Haveron was calling her name. He was stuck in the middle of a ring of Calormen soldiers, closing in on him. All around, the group of Narnians that had been cut off were in poor shape. Most of the Cats were too busy scaring away the Dumb horses of the Calormen to provide any aid.

(Y/N) had to do something. Her people were in danger. If this were how her vision came to pass, then let it be so. She hauled herself to her feet, sword in hand.

“Narnians, to me!” she yelled, drawing attention from all over the battlefield.

The Calormenes surrounding Haveron turned to approach her. Her stallion friend reared and kicked two of them from behind. (Y/N) easily dispatched them all, numbering about ten. She rushed to Haveron and pulled herself up onto his back. The Narnians who had been separated had all rallied behind her. She raised her sword, urging them to charge.

And so they did.

Following her lead, the Narnians carved through the Calormen soldiers, finally meeting the rest of the troops on the other side.

It wasn’t long after that that most of the Calormen army had fled or been cornered, and then, it was over.

Edmund came over to help her down from Haveron’s back.

“It’s alright,” he said when she winced, “Tumnus will take care of that arrow for you in no time. But first… You might enjoy seeing this.”

He helped her over to the wall of the castle where Prince Rabadash himself hung by his hauberk, stuck on a hook in the wall. Everyone around was laughing, and (Y/N) was certainly no exception.

“Look at what you’ve brought upon yourself, Rabadash!” she said. “May the Lion have mercy on your pride.”

The crowd roared in laughter at that, quite literally in the case of some of the Cats.

Then, Rabadash laid eyes on Edmund.

“Let me down, Edmund!” he howled. (Y/N) thought it rather rude that a man in defeat such as himself would forgo the use of royal titles. “Let me down and fight me like a king and a man; or if you are too great a coward to do that, kill me at once.”

Edmund smirked, and stepped forward, giving (Y/N) to someone else to support her.

“Certainly,” he replied, but King Lune stopped him.

He gave a short speech, ultimately deciding that Rabadash did not even deserve the honor of a duel. Instead, he would be trussed up like any common traitor, and would await his judgement at a later date.

* * *

Once everyone’s injuries had been tended to and had received a night of rest, the royals and the lords of Archenland and Narnia gathered to decide the fate of the traitorous Calormen prince.

The judgement of Rabadash was filled with much discussion, and even some debate, but everyone had fallen silent when Aslan arrived. (Y/N) had been glad to see him indeed, for he had swiftly put Rabadash in his place. Or rather, Rabadash had put _himself_ in his place. By refusing to accept his defeat and make some display of humility, he continued to rain empty threats until he had turned into a donkey.

Everyone had laughed, and it had been a great moment of levity amongst the weight of the battle.

But one great regret that (Y/N) held was that Aslan had vanished after that. He had not stayed to talk. She had hoped to ask him about the dream. In all her life, she had never dreamed a thing twice, yet this one had recurred, both on her eighteenth birthday and just two nights ago. How desperately she wanted answers, and yet, it seemed there would be no reprieve. Not yet, anyways.

* * *

“What is this about?” Peter asked. He stood in front of his throne, above a messenger from Calormen. The other royals all sat, observing the scene.

“High King Peter,” the messenger said, bowing low in the Calormen way, “The Tisroc sends word to your Queen.” He was looking right at (Y/N).

Peter looked at (Y/N), then nodded to the messenger. “Deliver this word.”

The messenger unrolled a scroll, and began to read.

“Queen (Y/N), on behalf of the nation of Calormen, the mighty Tisroc sends a gift, to honor Her Majesty’s skill and fortitude in battle, for at Anvard, she did slay a great many warriors, and painted the fields of Archenland with their blood. May such a champion reign like the mighty bolt of Tash. For the Red Lady, a cloak of blood red, the Tisroc does gift, so that all who ride into battle against her prowess may know who they face, and their hearts may be filled with fear.”

The messenger put the scroll back into his satchel, and from it retrieved a folded cloak, blood red as the letter had said.

(Y/N) rose, a cold feeling filling her gut. That was the cloak from her dreams. She descended the steps to accept the gift nevertheless.

“The Red Lady?” she asked the messenger.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head, “For the story goes that you were covered in Calormen blood that day, for the foolishness of Prince Rabadash.”

“Some of that blood was my own,” she murmured, taking the cloak in her hands. “You have delivered your message. Please, stay the night in Cair Paravel before you return. You must be weary from your journey. Rest, eat, and drink before you return home.”

The messenger seemed surprised by her offer, but he bowed once more in the Calormen way, and thanked her profusely. (Y/N) nodded to a faun servant, and he led the man away.

“It seems you’ve made a name for yourself in Calormen, sister,” Edmund said, rising from his throne to come over to her.

(Y/N) smiled, hoping it didn’t look too forced. She appreciated both the cloak and the gesture, but the dream lingered in the back of her mind.

“And hopefully that reupation will spread and those who are not our allies will think twice about attacking us.”

“We can only hope,” Peter said.

* * *

In her dream she saw a flash of white in the forest, the tail of a stag, no doubt. Tonight was different, for she was there in person. Never did she have a physical form in these visions, but here she did. She followed after the stag, but it always kept just one step ahead. Racing after it, she found herself in a clearing. It was odd, and the air around her was heavy with magic. Realizing she was now hopelessly lost, she turned, hoping to find her way back, but with a start, she realized all that lay behind now was a sheer cliff face! It was impossible to see the ground below, for the cliffs were so high that it was above the clouds. When she turned once more, there was a wall on the other side of the clearing. In the center of the wall, there was an old, wooden door, and she knew with all her heart that she did not want to go through it. She could just see a golden paw step into her line of sight when she awoke with a start, one name on her lips-

“Aslan!”

(Y/N) looked around the room, hoping the Great Lion would be there, but alas, he was not. Her dreams had been silent for nearly a year, since the battle at Anvard. Why did they come back to her now?

* * *

“You’re certain it was a White Stag you saw? But this is wonderful news!” Peter said. He was excited by the prospect of catching it for a wish, but (Y/N) wasn’t so certain.

“Yes,” she said hesitantly, “But I’m not certain we’re meant to find it. Perhaps we had better leave well enough alone.”

“Nonsense,” Peter insisted. “The Stag has been spotted near Lantern Waste, your dream is a sign that we’re to catch it. We can wish for the good of Narnia. Not to mention the thrill of the hunt!”

“If you’re not feeling up to it, though, (Y/N), you could just stay here,” Edmund teased. “I wager Peter and I could catch it. Or I could even catch it myself…”

Lucy laughed at that. “Don’t be so certain, Edmund.”

“I think we ought to all go together,” said Susan. “When was the last time we had an outing as a family? Come on, (Y/N), it’ll be good for us.”

Perhaps her siblings were right… The dream didn’t mean what she thought it did. She hadn’t bothered to consult the stars about it, after all. No doubt that was why she felt on edge. She was simply missing a piece of the message. Yes, that had to be it.

“Well when you put it that way…” She smiled, then paused. “Race you to the stables!” And with that, she took off running, her family close behind, with laughter on their lips.

* * *

(Y/N) had almost forgotten how much she loved the feeling of the wind in her hair on a thrilling ride. Haveron was having a delightful time of it too, as they thundered through the Western Wood, right on the tail of the White Stag. Just then, she noticed one of their members had fallen behind.

“I do believe we’ve lost Edmund,” she called to the others, gently nudging Haveron with her knee.

Susan groaned playfully. “Well I suppose we’d better go and fetch him then, hadn’t we?”

“If we must,” Lucy giggled.

“I do have my compass to lead us, even if we lose the Stag…” (Y/N) reasoned, “And it’s pointed us true this far. Haveron, if you would be so kind as to guide us?”

“Of course.” He galloped back the way they’d come, taking a slower pace than before.

“Come on, Ed!” Susan teased as they came into the clearing.

“Just catching my breath,” he replied, though (Y/N) had a feeling it was more for the benefit of Phillip than himself.

“Well that’s _all_ we’ll catch at this rate,” Susan said.

“What did he say again, Susan?” Lucy asked with a mischievous grin.

““You girls wait in the castle,”” she imitated, ““I’ll get the stag myself!””

The three Queens broke down giggling together.

Just then, something caught Peter’s attention, drawing him from the others’ joviality.

“What’s this?” he asked, climbing down from his horse.

The others all followed suit as he approached a most curious object. (Y/N) paused to hook her compass to Susan’s saddle, alongside the horn, since Haveron wore nothing on his back to leave it on.

“It seems familiar,” Peter said, drawing her attention back to the object.

It was odd, some kind of metal, covered in ivy, and there was a box with glass panels containing a flame inside. Perhaps this was where Lantern Waste got its name. This did seem to be some kind of odd lantern.

“As if from a dream,” Susan said.

“Or dream of a dream…” Lucy added, pondering something. Then, she whispered, “Spare Oom…”

And with that, she wandered off.

“Lucy!” (Y/N) called after her.

“Not again,” Susan grumbled.

They all went after the youngest, wondering what had occurred to her.

“Lu?” Peter called.

“Come on!” she insisted.

And so the other four followed.

But, the further they went, the more things became odd.

“These aren’t branches!” Peter noted, when he bumped into something soft.

“They’re coats…” (Y/N) said, though to the others, it sounded as though she were murmuring, like they were going separate ways in a tunnel.

“Susan, you’re on my foot!” Edmund growled, sounding quite immature.

“Hey, who bumped me?” Again, (Y/N) sounded further away.

The commotion between them all escalated, but none of them noticed her voice slipping away until it was no more. And then, suddenly, they all tumbled out of the wardrobe; the wardrobe that had first brought them to Narnia.

And (Y/N) was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh… how sad… What did you think of that? What do you hope to see next? I want to briefly spend some time on R’s life at home in between now and Prince Caspian.
> 
> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	10. Keeper of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your patience, everyone! I’m really happy I was able to put this part out. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get another part up, especially since I have some other series I’d like to update as well, but I hope you’ll enjoy this part!

The days ticked by, like the hands of a broken clock, slowly losing its perfected pace. Reality turned to memory, and memory, to dream. Distant and painful, Narnia lingered in her mind as time wore on. The stars above her now were silent. Dead and cold, they held no souls, no voices…

In the night, she walked in darkness. That was the worst of it all, the nothingness. There were no dreams, no signs, only silence.

Here, the trees did not dance, and the wind did not sing. The birds in the trees had simple, sweet voices, empty of words, and the beasts of the world held no knowledge. A brook may babble, but unintelligibly so, and without the careless laughter of the Golden Age.

This world was bleak and gray.

She sat in the garden behind her grandmother’s house for hours on end, hoping to hear some cheerful dryad’s call. But none ever came.

The diary in her hands was the most precious thing she owned. It was the Cair Paravel of this world, the shining jewel. When she held it, she could almost taste the salty breeze of that Glistening Eastern Sea. Inside, she had chronicled every detail of Narnia, from the first visit into that Witch-cursed land, till that last, fateful moment in Lantern Waste. In between the writings, detailed sketches and drawings could be found, of everything she could remember. The Lamppost, the Beavers, her family… Her compass, the stained glass behind the thrones at Cair Paravel… Aslan. Anything and everything that held a clear picture in her mind was found there. Even some of the things she had seen in her dreams… back when she _had_ dreams.

“(Y/N)?”

Her grandmother’s voice drew her from her thoughts.

“Come inside, dear, and have something to eat…”

The only person in the world who believed her, who knew of Narnia… Her grandmother often tried to lift her spirits, but at times was unsuccessful.

Though reluctant to leave the garden, on that off chance she might see some sign, hear some whisper of Narnia, (Y/N) rose and followed her grandmother inside.

Lunch was simple, but lovely. Stew, and a bit of bread. Oddly enough, it tasted somewhat familiar. Like something from a memory. Or a dream.

“Did you make any more of your drawings today?” Granny asked kindly as they finished the meal.

(Y/N) dabbed at the corner of her mouth with the napkin. Granny always had liked good manners, and holding to them did so feel like being back in Narnia again, at some grand feast, with Peter and the others.

“No,” she said. “Not today. I’m sorry. I know you like them.”

Granny chuckled dismissively. “Don’t apologize, they’re not _for_ me. I just wondered.”

(Y/N) sighed. “I just can’t decide what to draw. Drawing the things that made me happy _there_ only makes me sad here and now.”

Her grandmother nodded thoughtfully as the two of them collected the dishes.

“Then perhaps you ought to draw something there that made you _un_ happy.” She turned towards the sink, casually continuing as if she hadn’t just delivered a particularly sage bit of advice right then. “Your time in Narnia held more than just the Golden Age, after all.”

Granny gently took the last bowl from (Y/N) with a wise smile.

“Go on, now,” she said. “You can show me when you’re through.”

(Y/N) gave her a small smile in return and nodded. It was worth a try.

* * *

Back in the garden. That was how she passed the time now. Like the stars, the trees here were dead, in the sense of their souls and voices. These petals didn’t sing; there was no whisper of wind through their leaves. But at least the garden had color. Bursts of light in the darkness.

A graphite point traced over the pages of the diary. Gently, at first, but as the image took shape, the strokes became harsher, the color darker, until the tip snapped, leaving behind a jagged mark on the page. Although, the mark was not so out of place, really. It matched the icy darkness of the Witch’s Castle, staring out at her.

And she stared back. At least, until she could bear it no longer.

(Y/N) closed the journal with the pencil inside and tossed it on the ground, beside where she sat in the grass. With a heavy sigh, she lay back in the grass and closed her eyes.

She did this sometimes. Whenever she wanted to pretend she was back there. Lying in the shade of the Western Wood… The petals of the dryad trees would brush across her face. Of course, she knew she was lying in her grandmother’s garden, with no canopy to shelter her from the sun, but just then, she could almost imagine the way the Narnian Wood smelled, the way the trees would extend their branches to bring her shade. In that moment, she could almost hear the River Rush in the distance…

If she imagined hard enough, she could even feel the pleasant sting of magic in the air. The atmosphere was heavy with it, there in Narnia…

(Y/N) sighed once more, and opened her eyes.

But what she saw was not the washed blue sky above her grandmother’s garden, not the sparsely clouded, hot, summer day. When she opened her eyes, she saw that gray stone courtyard. The same courtyard she had seen back when she had turned eighteen, and again before the battle in Archenland.

This time, however, rather than observing, she was a part of it. She lay there on the stone, wrapped in that familiar cloak, adorned as the Red Lady. Though she felt no pain, she could see the crossbow bolts protruding from her flesh. She felt cold and numb, staring up at the tumultuous gray clouds above.

And just like that, she started awake. Her pulse was roaring in her ears like the Great Narnian River. A few deep inhales calmed her slightly, and the feeling of the grass beneath her grounded her in the moment. She hadn’t dreamt like that since… well, since Narnia. And the only times she dreamt in this world had been just before she returned. A slight thrill came over her at that notion, and a joyous grin spread over her face. If this meant what she thought it did…. Well, Granny would be thrilled for her. She had to tell her right away!

Granny… Just then, the thought struck her.

The grass under her hands was softer now. Alive, in a completely different way. Above her now were tree branches. She was no longer in her grandmother’s garden.

Could it be?

The sensation in the air truly had been magic. For somehow, in that moment, through her dream, it had pulled her back.

Around her were the great Woods, the beauty of Narnia…

She was home.

Awestruck, she slowly sat up. A stray twig was caught in her hair, but she didn’t care one bit.

Narnia.

The thought of it, just that very wonderful, lovely little notion that she was truly here again very nearly paralyzed her. It felt as though an eternity passed as she rose to her feet, taking everything in.

She felt completely different now. It was as if electricity had washed over her from head to toe. All of that dreadful, dragging weariness that had weighed so harshly on her before was now gone.

Slowly, she stood, and gently touched the bark of the nearest tree. For the first time since she had realized where she was, there was a slight pause to her elation. The tree did not respond. She couldn’t sense its soul. Yes, this was Narnia. She knew that without a doubt. And this tree _was_ alive. That much she could sense, as surely as she could feel the magic in the air. These trees had life that those of her home world quite obviously lacked. But they were silent and dim, hidden far within themselves. Not all was right within the world, so it seemed.

Now, the first order of business would be to find her way back to Cair Paravel. Time ran differently here than where she came from… Tumnus and the others at court must be wondering what had happened to her. Had her siblings returned to their world back in their time as well? Or had she been the only one to fall from Narnia?

(Y/N) shook her head. She had been named Resilient by Aslan, and by His Mane, she would live up to that title.

Carefully, she climbed into the branches of the closest tree and made her way to the top. Back in the old days, she had loved spending time in the forest canopy. The dryads and other tree spirits were thrilled to have her in their arms, and she often whiled the days away with them. Now, she was alone. But still, she resolved to carry on.

From her vantage point, she had a chance to get her bearings. She almost couldn’t believe that she was truly back, even as she looked out over the land. This was some sort of forest, but what realm was it in? Over to the East, she could see a river, and a waterfall. Wherever she was, she knew that as long as she headed East, that ought to bring her to the coast eventually. Though she would have to find her own supplies along the way… Figuring out where exactly she was would be first on the list. She would head towards that river first. Further East than that, she knew, Cair Paravel awaited on the shores of the Sea. There, she might finally find some answers. Her people, her family… did they think she had abandoned them? Or had they believed her to be kidnapped, perhaps by a spiteful Calormen, or some remnant of the White Witch’s minions?

No time to dwell on that, she told herself. She must get to Cair Paravel, as quickly as she was able. After climbing down from the tree, she made her way to the river she had spotted. Standing there on the shore, she pondered how best to go about crossing. With a quick glance around, she found a small branch, which she tossed into the water to gauge the current’s pace. It was a little faster than she would have preferred with how deep it appeared to be, but her focus had firmly fixed on getting home. That outweighed all else in her mind, even caution.

She found another fallen tree limb to serve as a sort of walking stick, to help keep balanced in the water, and with that, she waded in. The crisp river nearly came up to her waist. It was a little chilly, but nowhere near as icy as the melting river she had crossed with Lucy, Susan, and Peter back when they had first come to Narnia. Leaning into the current, she carefully made her way across.

At last, her feet found the bank of the opposite shoreline. Now, it was time to head East.

* * *

Modern clothes from (Y/N)’s world weren’t the best garb to go traversing Narnia in. The summer shorts were perfect for lazing in her grandmother’s garden, but she would have much preferred trousers or a riding dress to protect her legs from thorns and thistles. Tennis shoes were alright, but Narnian-made boots were better for hiking and traversing the terrain here.

It had been so long since she had last set foot in this world… Everything she had learned over the years, the skills she had trained for years to develop, had all vanished upon her abrupt return to her world. Where moments ago, she had been a grown woman with the strength to draw a bow and the agility to wield a sword, she suddenly found it all undone.

Now, however, as she traveled the Woods of Narnia once more, all that knowledge, which had begun to slip away like a distant whim during her absence, returned to her gradually. Her instincts sharpened, and the will of (Y/N) the Resilient overtook her once more.

Something made her pause. It took a moment to register, but then, she realized, there was something else in these woods. Thus far, she had not even encountered any Beasts, Dumb or Narnian alike, which was odd in and of itself. Now, she carefully followed the signs to where this being lingered, crouching behind a tree to observe before charging in, for once in her life. Peter would be so proud that lesson finally got through to her.

What she saw made her pause.

A dapple gray stallion stood there in a small clearing, swishing his tail. He was facing a bird on a branch, which (Y/N) found a little bit odd. Was this a Narnian horse or just a plain, Dumb creature?

Slowly, so as not to spook him, she stepped into the clearing, trying to seem as non-threatening as she could manage. The horse snorted and shifted his weight, as though he might spook and run at any moment, and the bird fluttered away quickly.

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) assured. “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name? Or can you even speak? I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just that I’ve been away for a while. I used to be quite good at distinguishing Talking Beasts from Dumb Beasts, but I daresay I’m out of sorts at the moment.”

It was funny, she thought, how as she spoke, that Old Narnian accent began to creep into her words, even after such a short time of having been back.

The horse still eyed her warily, but seemed to relax a little bit, and even allowed her to take a step closer.

“My name is (Y/N)… I hate to admit this, but I’m quite lost. I must get to Cair Paravel… Could you tell me where I am?”

The horse’s eyes widened at her name, and just when (Y/N) thought he might relent and speak to her, a twig snapped in the distance and the horse skittishly reared.

(Y/N) froze and listened carefully. Sure enough, the breaking of brush from a distance away could be heard, moving ever closer. She kept as motionless as possible, still attempting to go unseen. Some part of her wanted to run, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the horse.

The movement came ever nearer, until a pair of Telmarine soldiers burst into the clearing. Their armor looked rather different than (Y/N) remembered, but she recognized them well enough. She must have been brought back right into Telmar!

The horse shifted his weight, nervously flicking his tail.

“I thought I heard voices…” one of the soldiers chuckled. “What are you doing here, girl?”

Quickly, she thought up a reply.

“I’m simply passing through,” she said. “I just stopped here for a rest, with my horse…”

She stepped back, away from the men, and to her surprise, the horse stayed where he was, and even allowed her to pat his shoulder. That all but confirmed her suspicion that this was a Narnian. A Talking Horse.

The second soldier looked quite unimpressed with her answer.

“Passing through? In these woods? I think not. Where are you from?” he asked.

She had to think quickly.

“Narrowhaven.”

That was a bit _too_ quickly. She had said the first Narnian province that had come to mind. But Narrowhaven was one of the Lone Islands. It was nowhere near Telmar.

“Narrowhaven, eh?” the first soldier asked. “You’re quite a long way from home… What are you doing here, in Narnia?”

They were in Narnia?

Before she could stop herself, (Y/N) remarked in confusion, “What are Telmarines doing here?”

Now they seemed doubly suspicious of her.

“Where are you really from?” the second man asked. He obviously didn’t believe her quick thinking. “And what’s your name?”

Very well. It seemed she would have to take the more difficult route out of this.

“I am (Y/N) the Resilient of Cair Paravel, Queen of Narnia.”

There was a surprised snort from the Horse beside her. The second soldier laughed, and the first not-so-subtly pulled his crossbow closer.

A long, tense moment hung in the air, until suddenly, the soldiers called out, no doubt alerting the rest of their company. In their distraction, suddenly the Horse reared and slammed his front hoof into the helmet of the second man, sending him crumpling to the ground. The first man swung his crossbow around at (Y/N), but she grabbed his arm and pushed it away at the last second, firing a bolt into the tree just behind her head.

She slammed her knee into his stomach and yanked the crossbow from his hands when he doubled over. The shouts of approaching Telmarines could be heard moving closer.

“Climb onto my back!” came a sudden, low voice. It was the Horse!

(Y/N) nodded to him and swung herself onto his back with a firm grip on his mane. For one short moment, it were as though she were atop Haveron’s back once more, riding into battle.

At that moment, a Telmarine soldier burst into the clearing. When he caught sight of (Y/N) and the stallion, he charged at them with his sword raised. (Y/N) knocked his sword aside with the stolen crossbow and slammed the wooden stock into his head. She quickly reached back behind him as he fell, snatching the quiver of crossbow bolts from his person.

Taking advantage of the temporary absence of soldiers, the Horse took off, galloping away from their enemies. Angry Telmarine voices could be heard behind them, fading into the distance.

* * *

Eventually, the Horse began to slow, after they had ridden hard for most of the day. He certainly knew how to avoid the Telmarines. But, it seemed he was now satisfied with the distance he had put between them, and he trotted to a stop.

(Y/N) swiftly dismounted and moved to face him.

“Thank you…”

The Horse bowed.

“No need to thank me, my lady. It was my honor to serve the Seer of Narnia.”

That brought a smile to her face.

“And what is your name?”

“I am called Brontan,” he replied, shifting his weight.

(Y/N) nodded thoughtfully.

“Tell me, Brontan, what are the Telmarines doing here in Narnia? And how far are we from Cair Paravel?”

Brontan tilted his head, watching her curiously. “Why, the Telmarines have occupied Narnia for over three centuries now. And as for Cair Paravel… It was left in ruins back in the age of Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Eight.”

At his words, her chest tightened, and it seemed suddenly harder to breathe.

“And what age is it now?” she managed to force out.

Brontan seemed to realize her panic in that moment, for he gave her such a sad look as he replied that (Y/N) thought he might burst into tears on her behalf.

“Twenty-Three-Hundred and Three, my lady…”

It was as if the wind had gone from her lungs. When she and her siblings had chased the White Stag, it had been the age of Ten-Hundred Fifteen. She had been absent from Narnia nearly thirteen hundred years.

Her legs grew weak and she fell to her knees on the forest floor.

“So long,” she whispered. “I’ve been gone so long…”

Everything was crashing in on her all at once. The joy she had felt upon realizing her return was dampened now, though not yet entirely vanished. Everyone she had known was now dead…

“Where was Aslan in all of this?” she thought aloud suddenly, looking desperately up to Brontan. “He wouldn’t just let this happen… Why didn’t he stop this?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Why did he send me away?”

Brontan snorted softly. “I have no answers for you, my Queen. We Narnians have asked ourselves these same questions over the long years of Telmarine reign…”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw resolutely. “Well that Telmarine reign is coming to an end now. If you take me to whatever Narnians are left, I swear to you, I shall do whatever it takes to restore our land. Perhaps my family has returned as well… but even if they never come back to me, I shall drive these Telmarines out of our home.”

A small, whinnying chuckle came from Brontan. “I have heard the legends of your reputation, Queen (Y/N). I have no doubt that if anyone can do this, it is you. Come, the centaurs will know what to do. We’re a day’s gallop from the next bend of the Great Narnian River, and another half day past that, our best chance to find the other Narnians will be to wait at the Dancing Lawn.”

“Right,” she said, nodding, “That’s in the Great Forest, near the Stone Table.”

Brontan paused, but dipped his head in a nod. “Yes… We must go. The sooner we find the centaurs, the better. We must not stop if we can avoid it.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) agreed. “I once weathered week-long rides with my dear friend Haveron…” A pang shot through her heart at that name. “But nevermind that… Suffice to say I can manage.”

She climbed onto his back once more, and with that, they were off.

And she was left with nothing but the sound of rapid, thundering hoofbeats, and the memories brought about by the sound and the sensation of wind flowing through her hair. The years that had passed for her now seemed inconsequential, as torturous as they had been before. In fact, she wished she could have labored ten more years in that world if it meant she could have returned back to the very moment she had left. But now, what was done was done. All she could do now was try to fix what had been broken in her absence, and pray that Aslan would soon arrive to save them all once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	11. Return of the Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! They meet at last!

(Y/N) and Brontan rode tirelessly over the next day and a half, stopping for nothing. The both of them summoned whatever strength they possessed in order to reach the centaurs as quickly as possible. Several times throughout the journey, (Y/N) found herself wishing for something other than shorts and a t-shirt to ride in, but there was nothing to be done about it right then.

Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the Dancing Lawn. They were deep in the heart of the Great Forest now, and Brontan assured her that the Telmarines feared Narnian magic too greatly to venture this far.

Even from a distance, a great clamor could be heard, shouts and snarls and growls arising from the Lawn.

“What’s going on?” (Y/N) called to Brontan as they headed towards the noise.

“I don’t know, my Queen,” he replied, his voice strained and weary. “But I suspect we are about to find out…”

They thundered into the clearing where Brontan finally came to a stop, rearing high at the last second in order to avoid trampling what looked to be a Telmarine soldier standing there in the center of the gathering of Narnians.

When all of his hooves were on the ground once more, (Y/N) slipped down from his back. She was dead tired, and she could tell Brontan was too by the way his sides heaved, but nevertheless, she drew herself up and faced the Narnians like the queen she was.

“Brontan!” cried a Badger. “What are you doing here?”

“And with a _human_ no less?” came the sneering voice of a Black Dwarf.

At the sight of the Dwarf, her hand twitched towards the stolen Telmarine crossbow, but she managed to stop herself from attacking him. It likely wouldn’t make a good impression on the Narnians to start a fight based on what races had fought against the White Witch thirteen hundred years ago. In fact, it seemed that all of those who had sided with darkness long ago were now united under the Narnian cause. There were Minotaurs and Wolves and Black Dwarfs right alongside Fauns and Big Cats and Red Dwarfs.

“Let me explain myself, on behalf of Brontan,” (Y/N) said, noting the difficulty the Horse was having. “My friend needs rest and refreshment. We have ridden nonstop for the better part of two days.”

There was a pause, and the Dwarf and the Badger looked to the Telmarine in the center of the clearing, which (Y/N) found most odd. The man nodded, and Brontan, though looking confused, slowly cantered off to the edge of the clearing where he flopped down into the grass.

Then, all attention returned to (Y/N).

“Who are you?” the Telmarine asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking that of you, Telmarine,” (Y/N) said shortly. “Why do the Narnian people look to an invader for leadership?”

“It is a long story,” he said. “But in short, I am Prince Caspian, and I am here to help the Narnians reclaim their land from my Uncle, Miraz.”

(Y/N) glanced at the Narnians around her, and at the moment, they seemed far more wary of her than of this Caspian. By the looks of her people, the long centuries of hardship would not lead them to reust easily, and so, for the moment, she decided to trust their judgement, and accept the story without further question.

“Now,” Caspian continued, “Once again, I must ask, who are you, and why has the noble Narnian Horse brought you to this place?”

This was the moment she had been waiting for. The whole reason she and Brontan had ridden so hard was to find the centaurs and to offer her services, but suddenly, (Y/N) felt ashamed. Would her people blame her for abandoning them? They had obviously found a leader in Caspian, so how would they feel about her offer of aid?

“I came to seek the wise council of the centaurs, and to offer my services to the good people of Narnia,” she said, still hesitant to reveal her identity.

“You are no Telmarine,” the prince remarked.

“Why would we want your help?” the Black Dwarf from earlier suddenly interjected. “I rather think one human is quite enough.”

Steeling herself, (Y/N) answered, “I am not just any human.”

The Narnians gazed at her intently, and her will almost faltered, but she forced herself to continue.

“I am (Y/N) the Resilient, Queen of Narnia, Lady of the Stars. I was taken from this world by magic, and I return to you now at Aslan’s will to right the wrongs of the Telmarine invaders; to restore peace to Narnia and see its people freed.”

Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the gathering.

“Queen (Y/N)?” Caspian said in awe. It was then that (Y/N) noticed what was hanging from his belt.

“Susan’s Horn…” she whispered. Intently, she fixed her gaze on Caspian’s. “Is that what called me home?”

Before he could answer, that same Dwarf scoffed loudly.

“The Lady of the Stars?” He sneered. “ _All_ of the Kings and Queens vanished centuries ago.” He looked her over with disdain, but seemed to relent. “Very well, if you’re _really_ Queen (Y/N)… The legends say that she knew each and every star by name. So tell me, _Your Majesty_ , what is the name of _that_ one?” he demanded, jabbing his finger at a random spot in the sky.

“Nikabrik!” the Badger scolded. “Don’t be impertinent. Can you not see from her appearances alone that she is who she claims to be?”

The Dwarf, Nikabrik, waved him off dismissively.

“A resemblance to a legend is not proof enough, Trufflehunter.”

The centaurs gathered at the Lawn said nothing, they merely observed.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Canagrinn does not take kindly to rude pointing, Friend Nikabrik,” she said. “He is the Lord of Justice, you see, and he has seen too many fingers waved in false accusation.” She looked around at the rest of the Narnians. “But to our fortune, he tells me that his day to shine all the brighter is soon at hand.”

Nikabrik narrowed his eyes at her, but nevertheless turned his gaze to the centaur that stood at the front of the others.

“Well, Glenstorm?” he demanded. “What of it?”

“Glenstorm?” (Y/N) said softly. “Named for the son of Oreius and Clemendia?”

The centaur nodded.

“My ancestors of many ages ago, my lady,” he said, bowing his head to her. Then, he turned to Nikabrik. “She is who she says she is, Dwarf. Aslan has sent our Queen back to us.”

Glenstorm turned back to (Y/N) and bowed at the waist, and the rest of the centaurs followed suit.

“Queen (Y/N), Lady of the Stars, Oracle of Aslan and Seer of Narnia, you are the Patron Lady of the Centaurs who keep watch over the stars,” he addressed her formally. “My sons and I welcome you home.”

“Thank you, Glenstorm,” she said kindly. Then, she recalled the Telmarine at her side. “Prince Caspian…”

He looked to her with an expression that she couldn’t quite place, almost as if he were about to relent leadership to her, but in her heart, (Y/N) knew the course which had been set must be completed. After all, what would become of her people if she took charge and named herself sole leader, only for her vision to be fulfilled? No, if she were to die, it would be best for the people to trust another as well. Aslan must have known this…

“In my absence, my people have chosen you to lead them,” she continued. “I shall not challenge their judgement. You bear my sister’s horn. I believe you have been chosen by Aslan, and I would not dare speak against the Great Lion.” She gave him a conspiratorial wink and smiled. “I find that He often knows best.”

The Narnians around her chuckled.

“All I ask,” (Y/N) went on. “Is that you allow me to help you. I would be as an advisor to you, to help my people overthrow your uncle.”

“Of course,” Caspian said quickly. “It would be my honor, Queen (Y/N).”

She shook her head, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Just (Y/N) is fine.”

Caspian looked mortified at the idea, but nodded silently.

“Before you came,” he said eventually, “We were just making plans. We must acquire weapons, soldiers… This is but a small portion of the remaining Narnians.”

(Y/N) nodded at his words.

“It does my heart some good to hear that,” she said. “As for weapons…” She looked to Glenstorm. “What have we in the way of forges?”

“Not so much as we would like, my lady,” he said. “The Dwarfs and Minotaurs will make what they can, but I fear that it will not be enough.”

“Perhaps we could find weapons that are already made…” Caspian suggested hesitantly, as though he were unsure of himself, “In Telmarine transports, that is. We could raid their wagons, their supplies, for armor and weapons…”

(Y/N) smiled encouragingly. “Brilliant, Caspian. But we shall need a place to rally our forces… When we fought the White Witch at Omaru, we had a camp nearby… Perhaps we could return there, to that valley. It should be rather out of the way, a place to hide.” She hesitated. “Or have the centuries changed the landscape?”

Trufflehunter, the Badger, stepped forward to comfort her.

“I am truly sorry, my lady,” he began, “For all that you have lost… But we do have a place to make camp… a place where I believe you might feel a little more at home.”

(Y/N) sighed sadly, and nodded.

“Very well,” she said. “Then take us there, my friends. And we shall prepare for war.”

“We should wait until morning,” Caspian said. “You need rest, my lady. As do we all.”

He had already forgotten to call her by her name, but (Y/N) found it more endearing than anything.

“As you say, Prince Caspian,” she agreed. “Let us set up camp.”

A few small fires were started, and the Narnians all gathered around, scouts keeping watch on the perimeters.

(Y/N) sat with her back against a tree, a bit away from the least crowded fire. The crossbow and its quiver of bolts sat by her side, pulling her gaze. Those bolts were the very same that she had seen in her dream, the ones that pierced her body. In her heart, she knew that this journey into Narnia would end in her death. It did terrify her, but at the same time, she felt oddly resigned to it. Not at peace, necessarily, but just… acceptance. She took one of the bolts into her hands, turning it over as her mind wandered.

“Queen (Y/N)?” came the soft, accented voice of Prince Caspian.

She looked up to see him standing there, looking shy and uncertain.

“May I join you?” he asked.

“Of course,” (Y/N) said, patting the spot beside her.

Caspian sat against the tree next to her.

“I… never dreamed that I would meet you,” he said. “You and your siblings were… more than myths to me. Tales and legends. Stories… And now, here you are…”

“This isn’t exactly how I pictured my life either,” she said with a sad laugh. “I thought I would die in the Golden Age… perhaps falling defending Narnia from someone who would seek to disrupt that peace. But the day we chased the stag… it changed everything. I was pulled from this world, suddenly the same age and moment from which I had left. I had to grow up a second time…”

Realizing that perhaps she had shared too much, (Y/N) shook her head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t burden you with these things.”

“It is no burden, my lady,” Caspian said. “But I can see the grief it causes you, and I would not wish to be the cause of your sadness. I would be glad to speak of other things, if you wish.”

This Caspian was kind, (Y/N) realized. In fact, he did not seem much like a Telmarine at all. Not any Telmarine that she had known before, that was.

“Tell me of your journey here,” he said. “Of how you met Brontan, and-” he nodded at the crossbow bolt in her hands “-the encounter which led to you acquiring that.”

(Y/N) laughed softly at his attempt to distract her.

“It isn’t a very lengthy story, I’m afraid,” she said. “I came upon Brontan at the same time as a group of Telmarine soldiers. They could tell by the look of me that I didn’t belong, and I had to fight my way out.”

“You took on a patrol of Telmarines by yourself?” Caspian asked, something in his voice like awe.

(Y/N) looked sheepish. “It was no more than I had done in my time…”

“You are even more fearsome than the stories say,” Caspian said. “Even dressed in such strange garments.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a laugh. “I know, I know, the clothes from my world in my time are odd… You don’t happen to know where I can acquire something more Narnian, do you?”

“Well,” Caspian began, “You know better than I do that most Narnians have no need of trousers… but I imagine the lady centaurs may be able to find a spare blouse for you, if you wish.”

But (Y/N) shook her head.

“No need for them to give up their things for me,” she said. “These things will do for now.”

Just then, a Mouse wearing a golden circlet appeared beside the two of them.

“I do beg your pardon, my Queen,” he said with a sweeping bow. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament. My name is Reepicheep, and as I told Prince Caspian here, my blade is at your service.”

“Hello, Reepicheep,” (Y/N) said with a bright smile.

“Earlier today, my men and I took care of some Telmarines.” For some reason, Caspian looked a little sheepish at the Mouse’s words. “We made certain to redistribute their weapons to our troops, of course,” Reepicheep continued, “But I do believe one of the _larger_ Narnians went to collect their armor and clothing. If you don’t mind wearing Telmarine men’s garb, I’m certain I can find something for you.”

“That would be wonderful, Reepicheep,” (Y/N) said, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you ever so much.”

“Of course, my lady. I guarantee, I’ll have your things by morning.”

With one final bow, he scurried away to set about his task.

“I suppose I ought to rest,” (Y/N) said absently, though her mind felt opposite her words. If she slept, she might be condemned to dream, after all.

A shiver ran through her at the thought of suffering that dream another time, but Caspian must have mistaken it for a chill. He quickly removed the cloak from around his shoulders and held it out to her.

“Oh, no,” she protested, “I couldn’t.”

“No, please,” Caspian replied, “I insist. The night will grow cold, and Reepicheep will not have your things until the morning. Please, Your Majesty, your… Other-World clothes will not keep you warm.” At her hesitation, his eyes grew pleading. “For my peace of mind, at least.”

That, combined with those eyes, and she couldn’t say no.

“Very well,” she relented with a sigh. “Thank you, Prince Caspian.”

He smiled triumphantly as she accepted the cloak.

“Simply ‘Caspian’ will do, my lady.”

(Y/N) paused, then laughed a little.

“Very well… but only if you shall agree that simply ‘(Y/N)’ will do…”

“I… I could do that,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “Then I shall see you in the morning… Caspian. Goodnight.”

The two of them stood to find a place bed for the night. As they went on their way, she heard Caspian’s soft voice.

“Goodnight… (Y/N).”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	12. He Who Leads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited reunion… (Also I should not edit/prepare posts after my night meds have kicked in lol. Please excuse any odd mistakes, but do let me know if you see anything funny and I will fix it asap)

(Y/N) sat bolt upright, gasping for air. The dream had struck her yet again. It took but a moment for the slate gray cobblestones to melt away into the hushed blue light of early morning. Around the temporary campsite, Narnians milled about, rousing each other from sleep and gathering up their supplies.

“My lady?” came a voice to her left.

She turned, something inside her expecting to see Caspian. Instead, her gaze was drawn downwards to the Mouse from last night.

“Reepicheep,” she said, a bit surprised. “Good morning…”

“And good morning to you as well, Your Majesty,” he said. “Is everything alright?”

(Y/N) laughed softly, hoping she didn’t sound too terribly shaken.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Reepicheep patted a neatly folded bundle beside him.

“I took the liberty of having those Telmarine clothes brought for you. Indeed, I was just about to wake you so that you might have a chance to change before we begin our journey to the How.”

(Y/N) picked up the clothes.

“Thank you, Reepicheep,” she said, standing.

Hoping to avoid any sort of conversation about the state in which she had woken, (Y/N) quickly moved off from the camp to change.

The Telmarine clothes were somewhat big on her, but she made do. She added a couple of notches to the belt. That would have to do for now. Her regular clothes were all but ruined from crossing the river and stumbling through the underbrush of the forest, and she was fairly certain the cheap rubber sole of one of her sneakers was just about to come unglued from the rest of the shoe. All things considered, it was best just to leave everything. Bringing useless things along would be a waste.

To be certain the Telmarine scouts wouldn’t find her discarded items, however, (Y/N) covered the clothes with brush and dirt before she rejoined the Narnians.

Now that she had a cloak of her own, she thought it best to return Caspian’s to him.

She found him deep in a quiet conversation with Trufflehunter and Glenstorm, and approached slowly.

“Caspian?”

He turned to her instantly, as though he had been caught off guard by her, and she felt a slight heat in her face. Peter had always told her she was as silent as a Big Cat.

Quickly recovering from the start, Caspian smiled, and it might just have been her imagination, but (Y/N) could have sworn his face lit up at the sight of her.

“(Y/N)…” he said. “How can I be of assistance?”

It didn’t escape her notice that he remembered to use her name.

“I just wanted to return you cloak… and to thank you again for lending it to me,” she said.

It was then that he seemed to notice her garb for the first time.

“It suits you well,” he said, then immediately seemed to think himself too forward, for a light color dusted his cheeks, and he turned to Glenstorm. “Shall we proceed, then?”

Glenstorm nodded, then signalled to the others, and the Narnians began their journey.

* * *

Long they walked through the woods, for the most part in silence. (Y/N) found herself less than willing to leave Caspian’s side. She told herself it was because she wished to be certain that he would not feel lonely or out of place. He seemed to enjoy her company, though, and she didn’t think any more of it.

“It wasn’t just Queen Susan’s Horn that my Professor gave to me,” he admitted sheepishly when she asked him how he had come across her sister’s gift. He reached down to his belt and unhooked an all too familiar item that (Y/N) had somehow failed to notice before.

“My compass…” she gasped. “Of course… I left it on Susan’s saddle that day.”

“It guided me to the woods,” Caspian said. “At the time, I didn’t realize it… but my Professor told me to follow it, and I trusted him. It… it led me to the Narnians.” There was a pause.

“And to you,” he added.

“Oh.” (Y/N) could feel a heat rising in her cheeks.

Caspian suddenly held the compass out to her. “Here, take it. It belongs to you.”

But (Y/N) shook her head. “No, Caspian. You ought to keep it.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

(Y/N) gently took the compass from his hands and flipped it open, showing him the needle.

“See how it spins in my hands? That means I’m right where Aslan wants me to be. I know my role here, I know my Fate. But you? You agreed to accept my guidance, so accept this token as well.” She pressed the compass back into his hands. “Let Aslan’s will guide you.”

In truth, she didn’t want the compass. (Y/N) knew what was in store for her. She didn’t want to be led to it.

Caspian hesitated, then slowly relented.

“Well… If you insist…” he said.

“I do,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky grin.

They said nothing more to each other for at least a mile, letting the comfortable silence linger between them.

* * *

Some days later, the party approached a clearing. Something deep in the pit of (Y/N)’s stomach told her she had been here before, but she knew she had never seen this great stone structure before. Still, it looked ancient…

“What is this place?” she asked, to no one in particular as the grass gave way to a cobblestone path that led down into the structure.

“It is Aslan’s How,” Glenstorm answered. Caspian, she noticed, was listening intently as well. He continued, “It is a memorial, built to shelter the Stone Table where the Great Lion was killed by the White Witch.”

(Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks. She didn’t mean to, but she suddenly found that her feet refused to move. Her chest was tight, and the breath had gone from her lungs as she remembered that night.

“(Y/N)?”

Caspian called her name, his voice laced with worry, but her mind was far away, lost to the hushed words of long ago.

_“Peter, if ever I die, I want to be laid to rest on the Stone Table.”_

_“(Y/N), why would you say such a thing?”_

_“It’s where He died. I’m His Oracle, it seems only fitting.”_

_“You know that’s not what I meant. Tell me what’s wrong.”_

“(Y/N)?”

This time, Caspian’s voice brought her back to the present moment.

“Forgive me,” she said, shaking her head. “I… I haven’t been back here since the night they killed Aslan.”

The Narnians were watching her with a series of looks that she couldn’t quite place.

“It’s here then?” she asked, looking into the entrance tunnel.

“It is, my lady,” said Trufflehunter. “I could show you to it, if you wish.”

“No,” she responded, a little too quickly. “No, Trufflehunter, but thank you… I have the strangest sense I’m not meant to see it yet.”

Of course, no one knew what she meant by that, but she was a Seer. She rather thought she had a right to be mysterious.

(Y/N) turned and continued into the How, and the Narnians collectively seemed more at ease for it.

Inside the How, securely housed underground, even more Narnians than had been at the Dancing Lawn awaited. Caspian and (Y/N) certainly garnered numerous stares for being human, and it reminded (Y/N) of the first time she and her siblings had entered Aslan’s camp during the time of the White Witch. Surprisingly, she found it more comforting than alienating.

Glenstorm came to a stop in the center of the entrance chamber and stomped his hoof sharply against the stone beneath, quickly gathering the attention of the rest of the Narnians.

“Aslan has brought to us… One who is destined to lead.”

Caspian was looking at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, but she shook her head and subtly moved back, leaving him at the forefront of the attention.

“Prince Caspian, the rightful ruler of the Telmarines,” Glenstorm continued, “Has vowed to right the wrongs of his people. My sons and I have pledged to him our swords, to remove the Usurper Miraz from the throne, and I bid you do the same, my fellow Narnians.”

Every eye was on Caspian. He swallowed nervously, glancing again at (Y/N). She nodded her encouragement, and he stepped forward, taking a breath to steel himself.

“I give you my word,” he began, “I shall do everything in my power to reclaim this land for you. There is much that I have yet to learn…” He glanced at (Y/N). “But I shall not be alone… Queen (Y/N) of Old has returned to Narnia, and she has pledged her guidance to me.”

Murmurs rippled throughout the crowd.

(Y/N) stepped forward, finally, and the murmurs intensified as they recognized her at once.

“It is true,” she said. “Aslan has chosen Prince Caspian.” Then, words came to her, unbidden. She knew it had to be _Him_. “You are no longer Prince Caspian of the Telmarines… Though you have not yet earned any other title, by the end of this all, you shall be called Caspian of Narnia.”

(Y/N) bowed her head to him. She hoped that the Narnians would follow her example and defer to Caspian. It would not do for them all to look to her. Not when she knew she was destined to die.

A Minotaur stepped forward from the crowd and knelt before her.

“We welcome you home, Queen (Y/N),” he said, “Let it be as you say.” He looked to Caspian. “We will follow you.”

The Narnians of the How all nodded, some drew their weapons in the sign of respect.

Caspian, though he looked overwhelmed, nodded, graciously accepting their allegiance.

“We must make plans,” he said. “We are in dire need of weapons, and if we are going to take them from the Telmarine armies, we shall need to plan raiding parties. How soon can we be ready?”

Glenstorm exchanged a look with the Minotaur, who spoke next.

“I can have soldiers ready by dawn, my lord.”

Caspian nodded.

“Dawn it is, then.”

* * *

That was the first of many raids. They were always cautious of how they proceeded. They only attacked in the night, and they took only weapons and armor, leaving the Telmarines with their lives. Caspian had even left a note this time, stating that Miraz would no doubt know of their actions by now.

(Y/N) was quite proud of the way that Caspian had stepped up over the past month or so. He was growing as a leader, though he didn’t yet fully believe in himself.

At his order, they had made camp the night before, and began their journey back to the How at first light.

“Wait,” whispered a Minotaur. “I hear movement ahead… I shall go to scout for any danger.”

“I shall come with you,” said Caspian quietly, “To watch your back.”

“Be safe and swift, my friends,” (Y/N) whispered back.

The Minotaur nodded, and he and Caspian crept away.

Moments later, a great shout was heard from whence they’d gone, and (Y/N) broke into a run, sword drawn, with the rest of the Narnians at her back.

What she saw when she arrived stopped her in her tracks.

Caspian was locked in a duel with a young man who was certainly not a Telmarine.

“Caspian!” she cried sharply, drawing both of their attention.

The young blond man locked his blue eyes with hers, and (Y/N) froze.

Could it be?

With the fight all gone from him now, the young man looked around at the Narnians emerging from the woods.

“Prince Caspian?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Caspian said warily. “And who are you?”

He glanced at (Y/N), looking for answers but she herself wasn’t certain that her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

“Peter!” came a sharp cry.

It was him. _Them_.

Behind Peter, (Y/N) at long last set eyes on four more figures, emerging from the brush. One, a dwarf whom she had never before met, and the other three…

Caspian looked down at the sword in his hand.

“High King Peter?”

“I believe you called…” retorted Peter irritably.

“Well, yes, but,” Caspian said, “I thought you’d be older.”

He and (Y/N) had spent many a late night talking about her siblings. She had thought that if they returned to Narnia, the same amount of time would have passed for them. But she had grown up with them once before, and she knew what each of them looked at the age she thought they _ought_ to be. They were all too young.

“Well if you like, we could come back in a few years…”

“Stop it, Peter,” (Y/N) said, finding her voice at last. “Caspian isn’t the only one who thought you’d be older.”

The silence of a graveyard fell over that gathering in the forest as the others all noticed her.

“(Y/N)?” Edmund whispered.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as she nodded.

“It’s me…”

She held Peter’s gaze for one long moment before he lunged forward and drew her into a fierce embrace. Moments later, she felt the arms of the others joining his.

“(Y/N)…” Lucy said as they finally parted. “I don’t understand… You and Edmund are meant to be the same age… Did you return so much sooner than we did?”

(Y/N) hesitated, exchanging a glance with Caspian.

“Lucy… I’ve only been here less than two months.”

Peter looked troubled. “It’s been the same for us…”

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “And… how long has it been for you? In our world, I mean. How long since you left Narnia?”

“It’s been a year,” Susan said, regarding her with a pained frown.

(Y/N) let out a dry laugh. “Then we’re the same age now, Susan… It’s been four years for me.”

“Four years?”

It was Edmund. (Y/N) understood his pain. They had been the same age before, almost as if they were twins. It had sometimes made them closer to each other than the others, but now, that bond had changed.

She simply nodded in response.

“You’re not exactly what I expected,” Caspian admitted. “Any of you.” He locked eyes with (Y/N).

“Neither are you…” said Edmund, finally finding his voice. He had his wary gaze trained on the Minotaur.

“A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes,” Trufflehunter said wisely.

Just then, Reepicheep darted forward eagerly.

“We have anxiously awaited your return, my Liege!” he declared. “Our hearts and swords are at your service.”

(Y/N) felt a prick of annoyance. Hadn’t he sworn himself to Caspian in these past months?

“Oh my gosh, he is so cute…” she heard Lucy whisper.

Uh oh.

“Who said that?” Reepicheep demanded, drawing his sword.

Lucy jumped.

“Sorry…” she admitted sheepishly.

Reepicheep’s demeanor instantly changed when he realized he had been addressing one of the Queens.

“Oh, uh, Your Majesty…” He bowed deeply. “With the greatest respect… I do believe _courageous_ , _courteous_ , or _chivalrous_ might more befit a knight of Narnia.”

“Well, at least we know _some_ of you can handle a blade,” said Peter smartly.

“Peter,” (Y/N) said sharply, earning a few surprised looks from her siblings. In the Golden days, she had never spoken against Peter. But in the days of old, Peter had outgrown childish digs such as these.

Reepicheep continued, unaware of the subtle tension.

“Yes indeed!” he chirped. “And I have recently put it to good use, securing weapons for your army, sire.”

That annoyance from earlier flared up once more. The Narnians were pledged to Caspian, not to Peter and the other Golden Age rulers. (Y/N) knew in her heart it was what Aslan wanted. She exchanged a knowing glance with Glenstorm. He and his sons had offered their swords to Caspian, but if Peter deigned to take leadership, it would be in poor form for them to deny the High King.

“Good,” Peter said, taking charge, just as (Y/N) had feared, “Because we’re going to need every sword we can get.”

“Well then,” Caspian said evenly, “You will probably be wanting yours back.”

He offered the hilt of Rhindon, and Peter accepted it without so much as a thank you.

(Y/N) wanted to speak up, but she bit her tongue. It was probably just the shock of seeing her having aged, she told herself. Peter would be back to his normal self just as soon as he adjusted.

At least, that’s what she hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading! Anyways, on a slightly more personal note, I’ve had an absolutely horrible week, so any interaction/comments/feedback is doubly appreciated <3


	13. Destiny and Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part, y'all... I really loved writing the very last scene, Caspian had me with heart eyes. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As they returned to the How, (Y/N) walked alongside Edmund. At first, they both were silent.

“Four years?” he asked at long last.

“Yes,” (Y/N) said softly.

“You’d be seventeen, then?”

She simply nodded. She had expected him to be upset. This whole thing would have had her reeling too, had she not already spent the past few months considering various, far more morbid possibilities regarding the fates of her family members.

“We brought this for you,” he said, reaching into his satchel.

(Y/N) was delighted to see her bow from Father Christmas, and the sword she had used in the Golden Age.

“You found them!” she exclaimed, happily donning her things.

“At Cair Paravel,” he confirmed. “It… It was in ruins.”

(Y/N) nodded solemnly. “So I heard…”

Edmund hesitated, then reached into his satchel once more.

“We also brought this.”

What he produced next made (Y/N)’s blood run cold.

The cloak, as red as blood. The cloak from her nightmares.

The one she would die in.

Of course, on this day of happiness, being reunited family, she would be reminded of her fate.

But, she forced a smile and took it from him.

“Thanks, Ed.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, but looking into his young eyes made her heart ache for the time that had passed for her without him.

“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Edmund asked, sensing her grief. “This past year, the whole time, I’ve thought how awful it was that we were separated for so long… only to find out just how long it’s been for you. And suddenly, that one year, it doesn’t seem so awful anymore. But then I feel selfish for feeling that way, thinking of you waiting so much longer…”

“I’m sure Aslan has a reason,” (Y/N) said.

Edmund looked at her curiously. “Did he send you a dream?”

(Y/N) averted her gaze. She knew she had answered a bit too fast when she said “No…” but Edmund didn’t press the matter.

Silence lingered between them for a while, but just as (Y/N) thought of something she might say to resume the conversation once more, they came to the clearing in front of the How.

Lucy gasped in amazement as they drew closer.

One of the Big Cats ran ahead, no doubt to spread the news of the other Kings’ and Queens’ return.

Sure enough, when they arrived at the entrance, the centaurs had lined up along either side of the path, standing at attention. They stepped up and drew their swords in salute, and just for a moment, (Y/N) could imagine herself at Cair Paravel, at some celebration in the days of old.

She walked forward with her siblings, relishing in their presence. In these past few months, she had all but convinced herself that she would never see them again. She certainly didn’t mind being proven wrong.

Caspian, she noticed, fell behind in his gait as the five rulers of old walked down the rampart. (Y/N) stood between Peter and Susan, of course, glad to have them near, but she couldn’t deny that some small part of her desperately wished that Caspian also walked at her side - no matter how hard she may try to deny it.

Once inside, the sound of clanging metalsmiths and crackling forges greeted the returning warriors, the Narnians hard at work to prepare for war.

Susan and Lucy went on ahead to explore as Peter and Edmund looked around.

“It may not be what you are used to,” Caspian offered at Peter’s hesitant look, “But it is defensible.”

“Caspian has done great work here,” (Y/N) added supportively. “He rallied the Narnians to action. None of this would be possible without him.”

Caspian looked down shyly, giving a small smile.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said.

Just then, Susan called out, “Peter… You may want to see this.”

(Y/N) had a feeling she knew exactly what Susan had found. All this time she had been there, she had never even gone into the tunnel that led back to the Table. But now, with all her family here… it felt right. The time had come to face it.

Caspian followed as the Pevensies looked around the tunnel. Carved into the walls, there were images, drawings of their first venture into Narnia. In one picture, Tumnus stood beside the lamppost, clutching his umbrella. In another, Lucy, Susan, and (Y/N) sat atop Aslan’s back. Yet another carving showed their coronation.

(Y/N) gently traced that one with her fingertips.

“The thrones are out of order,” she murmured in amusement. The carver had put them in sequence by age.

“It’s us…” Susan realized.

Lucy looked at Caspian in confusion. “What is this place?”

“You don’t know?” he asked, surprised.

He looked at (Y/N), but she shook her head.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell them yet.”

Caspian nodded in understanding, then grabbed a torch from the wall. He stepped closer to (Y/N), and murmured, “Are you sure you’re ready? You know what lies at the end of this passage…”

But she took a deep breath, standing tall.

“I’m ready, Caspian.”

At her affirmation, he led the way, further into the How. As they drew closer, (Y/N) could _feel_ the presence of the Table, as if it were a living being. Although, she supposed, in a way, it was. Its life came from the thrumming of magic that reverberated through it and filled this whole place. And she, for some reason, could sense it.

At the bottom of a set of roughly hewn stone steps, she knew. They had arrived. The strength of its magic nearly swept her off of her feet.

There was irony to be found, she thought, in the notion that thousands of years ago, the Table had been at the top of a hill, with steps leading up to it, and now, it lay at the heart of an underground tomb.

Caspian touched his torch to a basin off to the side, and within moments, the whole room illuminated with fire.

The table stood, as broken as last she saw it, in the center of the room. And just beyond the archway through which the resurrected Aslan had appeared to them those many years ago, his portrait had been carved into the stone.

Every inch of the walls had decorative carvings inlaid, of all kinds of magical creatures, but there could be no mistake as to the intended focal point. Aslan commanded almost the same attention as in the flesh.

The others stood still, as if frozen by magic, watching on as (Y/N) stepped forward. She felt Lucy close behind moments later, but she paid her no mind. It felt as though she alone approached the table, magic hanging in the air like a thick fog. And not just the everyday magic that flowed throughout all of Narnia. No, this… this was Deep Magic. The Magic that had brought this world into being. The Magic that had brought Aslan back to life. It lingered still.

But why?

(Y/N) touched the Table, and was instantly struck with a vision. In that split second of white light before the vision came into being, she remarked to herself how odd the occurrence was. Never had she received a premonition in her waking moments. This must be important, she knew.

_Caspian stood before a throne. It didn’t look to be a Telmarine throne, and yet (Y/N) had never seen it before. It looked to be Narnian-made, of that much she could be certain. No, not just one throne, she realized. Two._

_He seemed to be waiting on some sort of ceremony to begin. He looked as handsome as ever, in his most ceremonial garb. His hair had grown, and he had gained a beard, evidence of the years that would change him._

_Two thrones and ceremonial garb…_

_A wedding._

_(Y/N) felt her heart sink. She didn’t understand why. They hadn’t known each other_ that _long, and there remained the rather obvious matter of their being from two different worlds. And still, it destroyed her to see the way his eyes shone, full of love, for another woman._

_His joy was evident._

_It served as a weighty reminder, she supposed, not to grow attached. She knew her life would end soon. If she allowed herself to entertain notions of love and life in the future, she might lose sight of her destiny._

With a gasp, (Y/N) sharply withdrew her hand from the Table, crashing once more into the present moment.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Lucy asked softly, placing her hand on the Table reverently.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) replied breathlessly.

How her heart ached…

“He must know what he’s doing,” Lucy said, looking back at the others.

Aslan.

“Yes, I think you’re right, Lucy,” (Y/N) murmured. All the life and light had been stolen from her voice, and she knew the others had noticed, but she dared not meet their eyes.

A long silence lingered, until at last Peter spoke.

“I think it’s up to us now.”

And (Y/N) thought he might just be right, even if not in the way he meant it.

They all gazed up at the image of the Lion, as if its stone face might come to life to give them some wisdom, but only silence remained.

* * *

Days passed in a cold, dreary nothingness. Peter got to know the troops, and the Pevensies helped where they could. The most important thing, however, would be to make plans. When the Telmarines discovered them, they would need to be ready. For now, however, the Narnians devoted most of their focus to acquiring weapons.

After her mysterious vision at the Stone Table, (Y/N) found herself becoming withdrawn. How could she revel in her family’s presence when she knew they would only lose her soon? It wouldn’t be fair to put them through the torture of fully reuniting with her if she would only be snatched away.

As for Caspian, however, she had made a vow to guide him in his leadership, and she intended to keep that. He needed her help more than ever now, as Peter’s stubbornness made things that much more difficult.

Still, she warned herself not to fall in love with him.

It didn’t work.

He was her companion and confidant, and the two of them trusted each other wholeheartedly. It proved impossible to keep her feelings from wandering out of control, despite knowing he was destined for another.

Tonight, however, proved different than any other.

The dream had struck again, as it had every night since she had returned to Narnia. And, just as on every other night, (Y/N) woke, seized by terror. This night, she woke with a scream.

On this night, Caspian heard her.

“My lady!” he said, rushing into the room to kneel at her side. “Are you alright?”

(Y/N) pressed a hand to her brow, the other fisting in the cloth of her sleeping clothes…

Which consisted of only a spare tunic. Her face went hot.

Caspian’s expression likewise went odd at the realization.

“I-I apologize, I didn't mean… I’ll--” He moved for the door, but (Y/N) stopped him.

“No, please…” She suddenly became aware of how small her voice sounded. “Stay with me.”

Caspian hesitated, but he slowly sat beside her, very pointedly keeping his gaze on her face, so as not to seem disrespectful, should his gaze begin to wander along the scandalously unlaced men’s top she wore. It really wouldn’t be considered scandalous in (Y/N)’s world and time, but as a Narnian Queen, she found herself quite embarrassed. Yet she hadn’t sent Caspian away.

“Was it a dream?” Caspian asked softly.

(Y/N) hesitated. Then…

“The same on every night since I returned,” she admitted quietly.

Now, Caspian looked worried, but she couldn’t be sure if he worried for Narnia’s fate, or for her sake, for having to see this thing that had just woken her, screaming, every night for months on end.

“What did you dream of?”

She knew he would ask. His curiosity couldn’t be avoided, not with the circumstances being what they were, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer him.

“That is my burden, I’m afraid, Caspian,” she said instead. “One I must bear alone.”

Caspian seemed as though he wished to press further, but he didn’t.

“As you wish,” he said simply.

Silence lingered, for a moment, until (Y/N) spoke her thoughts aloud.

“I used to bear so many scars on my skin,” she murmured, absently running her fingertips over where they would have been. Should have been. “I was wounded in the battle at Archenland. An arrow here-” she gestured “-in my shoulder.”

Caspian listened intently. The stories she had told him of the Golden Age thus far had been pleasant memories, of being with her family, the defeat of the White Witch, and encounters with Aslan. Nothing so grim as this. But she trusted him, and she wanted him to know these things. Perhaps her mind still lingered in sleep, but it was important to her that he know.

“Other than that,” she continued on, “There were few wars among nations. The rest of my scars came from…” She shuddered, and paused, taking a breath, before she found the strength to continue.

“The remainder of the White Witch’s minions came out of hiding after about five or six years.” It had happened after her eighteenth birthday. After the first time she’d had that dream. “They were attacking our people, bringing strife in an age of peace. Lucy and Susan and Edmund were busy with diplomatic dealings in Archenland, so Peter and I went out together, with a few of our most trusted soldiers. We were able to slay the last of the violent uprisers, but…”

(Y/N) looked into Caspian’s eyes, full of concern for her.

“There were so many of them, Caspian… I was separated from the others, and… I was overrun. I suffered severe wounds, and almost died. I thought that was the end for me… But Aslan came to me, in the darkness, on the edge of life and death. I’ll never forget it… he said to me, _It is not yet your time, dear Oracle._ And I awoke in my chambers in Cair Paravel, having been saved by all the skills of the Fauns and the Dryads. That was the day I told Peter that… if ever I were to die, I wanted to be laid to rest on the Stone Table.”

She sighed, tracing her fingers down her sternum. Her hands came to rest just below her left rib, where the near-fatal blow had been dealt.

“I carried those scars for a decade. They served as a reminder of my Fate. That I had been saved to die another time.”

“Or simply saved to live,” Caspian countered softly.

(Y/N) smiled sadly, but he did not know what she knew.

“Those scars vanished when I returned to my world, suddenly placed back in the body of the young girl who had first set foot in Narnia, untouched by battle and hardship. It felt as though my very identity had been stripped away. They were horrid scars… and part of me was relieved to be rid of them. But… it was as if my old life had been stripped away alongside them.”

Caspian’s hand found hers, and she didn’t protest.

“(Y/N),” he said, “Will you not tell me what you dreamt of?”

She wanted to tell him, so _badly_ she wanted to tell him. But instead, she did something reckless.

Caspian was so close to her. She leaned into him, gently cupping his cheek.

And he met her halfway, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

(Y/N) felt all the more selfish for it, but in that moment, she found a happiness that had been lost to her for far too long.

“You are destined for great things, Caspian,” she whispered, eyes still closed, their brows still touching. At some point, her hand had moved to rest over his heart, and she could feel every thrum of his life beneath her fingertips.

“You’ll be a great king, remembered by all who come after…” Her voice broke lightly as she continued, “You will wed a wonderful woman, and your kingdom will prosper for the grace of your Queen.”

“Why are you saying these things?” he asked, his words nothing more than a breath. He could tell something was wrong.

Neither of them had yet moved.

“It cannot be me at your side,” (Y/N), her voice wavering more than she could bear. “No matter how I wish it to be so.”

Caspian began to move away from her at last, and she shut her eyes tightly to keep her tears from falling.

“(Y/N)--” He was going to try to reassure her. To dissuade her of what she knew to be heartbreakingly true.

“We’re from two different worlds, Caspian. Aslan would not allow that.”

“He did not tell you this.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He refused to believe it. Dear Caspian…

“Please, leave me,” she begged softly.

“(Y/N)--”

“ _Please._ ”

Silence.

“As you wish, my lady.”

And he said nothing more.

When he had gone, (Y/N) found her heart more empty than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? As always, be sure to let me know what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!


	14. Time at Last to Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember, I told you exactly what was coming... Hehe

The next morning, Caspian awaited her just outside her chambers, no doubt hoping to speak to her about last night.

“(Y/N),” he started, taking her hand in his, clasping it close to his heart.

She knew she ought to pull away, but she allowed herself this moment of weakness.

Just a moment.

“I simply wish to talk about last night, if I may,” he said, glancing around.

“Caspian,” she whispered, holding his hand tightly, like a lifeline. It was a bad idea, she knew, but she moved closer to him, and he moved closer to her as well.

“I will not abandon you,” he said firmly. “Whatever it is you have seen in your dreams, I am not afraid. You are the one who holds my heart. I--”

“(Y/N)!” came another voice.

Peter rounded the corner just then. His expression at seeing the two of them so close made it quite evident that he hadn’t expected Caspian to be there as well. A muscle in his jaw went taut.

(Y/N) released Caspian’s hand from her grip, and took a step back, suddenly realizing how close they were. In fact, they had been dangerously close to recreating the event of last night.

“You’d better come quickly,” Peter said, his tone clipped. “The sentry’s just seen a Telmarine scout. They know we’re here.”

* * *

The leaders of each kind of Narnian creatures gathered in the room where the Stone Table stood. Lucy sat upon the Stone Table. (Y/N) thought that perhaps it made her feel closer to Aslan.

She too was drawn in by its magic, however. It gave her a sense of peace. After all, she would soon be following in the Great Lion’s footsteps.

And so, she stood beside Lucy, leaning against the Table just beside the great split down the middle.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Peter said, once the matter had been explained by the faun who had been on sentry duty at the time. “Miraz’s men and war machines are on their way.” He paused, turning to look at as many of the soldiers as he could. “That means those same men aren’t protecting his castle.”

Something didn’t feel right to (Y/N), about the way that Peter acted. It seemed as if he were trying to play the _role_ of High King rather than just _being_ the High King. Perhaps the matter of how he had come across her and Caspian had something to do with it.

“What do you propose we do, Your Majesty?” Reepicheep asked. It was unclear whom he had been addressing, and since Caspian had grown used to being addressed as the sole leader of the Narnians til now, both he and Peter answered at once.

“We need to get ready for it--”

“To start planning for--”

The two of them stared at each other. Peter, more so, glared.

Caspian, perhaps in a way of apologizing for his closeness with (Y/N) earlier, nodded in deference.

“Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us,” Peter continued, as though nothing has happened.

“But that’s crazy,” Caspian said, “No one has ever taken that castle.”

“There’s always a first time,” Peter insisted.

(Y/N) thought, with an odd feeling growing in her heart, that perhaps it might be wiser to listen to the one who had grown up in that very castle, but she said nothing.

“We’ll have the element of surprise,” Trumpkin reasoned, looking at Caspian.

It made sense that he would side with Peter over Caspian, since he had been absent when Caspian was named the Narnian leader. It was only natural for his loyalty to lie with the one he had known first.

“But we have the advantage here,” Caspian said firmly. Evidently he had grown tired of appeasing Peter.

Susan, ever the peacemaker, stood from her spot and came forward.

“If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely,” she offered, trying to show Peter the merit of this other plan.

He simply gave her a look so dark it could have wilted flowers.

“I, for one, feel safer underground,” said Trufflehunter.

Peter sighed, and looked at Caspian. “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done here, but this isn’t a fortress. It’s a tomb.”

“Caspian isn’t some placeholder for you, Peter,” (Y/N) said sharply, breaking her silence.

All eyes went to her, and a tension filled the air as Peter found her gaze. His own eyes were fiery. Perhaps he felt she had betrayed him, choosing Caspian’s love over her family, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Peter had been acting like a spoiled child ever since they reunited, and she could stand for it no longer.

“He was chosen by Aslan, the same as you and I, and it’s high time you realized that.”

“I’m not sure you’re capable of being objective in this matter,” Peter replied coolly, looking pointedly at Caspian.

The two of them held each other’s gaze, locked in some silent dispute, neither backing down.

Silence rang in the hall, deafening in its intensity.

Edmund, looking to avoid what might have escalated to a fight between his brother and sister, spoke.

“The problem with staying here is that if they’re smart, the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out.”

“We could collect nuts!” a Squirrel helpfully suggested.

The tension had evidently dissipated, and the conversation returned.

“Yes!” Reepicheep declared. “And throw them at the Telmarines! Shut up.” He looked up at Peter. “I think you know where I stand, sire.”

Peter turned to Glenstorm. “If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?”

The Centaur shared a long look with Caspian, but he could not refuse the High King.

“Or die trying, my liege,” he said solemnly, bowing his head.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” came Lucy’s gentle voice.

Peter frowned at her. “Sorry?”

“Well you’re all acting like there’s only two options…” she said. “Dying here… or dying there.”

“I’m not sure you’ve really been listening, Lu,” Peter said smartly.

But, she didn’t hesitate in her response.

“No, _you’re_ not listening. Or have you forgotten who _really_ defeated the White Witch, Peter?”

Peter’s face went stony.

“I think we’ve waited for Aslan long enough.” And with that, he turned to leave. Just before he made it past the threshold of the hall, he turned and announced, “We leave at dawn.”

He glanced at (Y/N).

“Unless there are any objections?”

(Y/N) knew in her heart this would be the death of her. And she was angry for it, angry at Peter’s insistence, angry at his stubbornness, but… she still loved him. And her Fate would come to her no matter what… She just hoped Peter wouldn’t blame himself when all was said and done.

“Thus sayeth the King,” she said dryly.

Peter nodded, and then he was gone.

The rest of the Narnians exited one by one, off to prepare the soldiers, no doubt. At last, only Lucy, and (Y/N) were left. Even Caspian had gone, no doubt to talk with Glenstorm or Trufflehunter about what had transpired.

Lucy gave a melancholy sigh.

“Peter is being stubborn,” she said softly, looking up at the carving of Aslan. “He was already having a hard time being treated like a kid again back in our world… So coming here, everything being different instead of how we’d left it… That didn’t help matters.”

“And seeing me so much older probably made things worse,” (Y/N) said softly.

“And seeing you so close with Caspian,” Lucy added. “You remember how he used to chase off any would-be suitors for any of us girls in the Golden Age…”

(Y/N) laughed softly, in spite of herself. “Yes… I remember.” Then, she paused, a sudden thought occurring. “What do you mean, about me and Caspian?”

Lucy gave her look that clearly said _Oh please._

“You’re madly in love with each other, of course.”

(Y/N) nearly choked on her next breath.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s obvious,” Lucy said simply. “I’m sure that if you asked him--”

(Y/N) shook her head, stopping that train of thought quickly. “It isn’t meant to be, Lucy. You wouldn’t understand…”

“Just because you got older, that doesn’t mean you got any more clever.”

“I’m… actually certain that’s exactly how it works, but--”

“I mean about love.”

“It isn’t love, Lucy,” (Y/N) said wearily. “And anyways, even if it were, we’re in the middle of preparing for war. I hardly think now is the best time.”

Lucy sighed, but relented. “If you say so, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) nodded absently, her gaze wandering to the image of Aslan. How she wished that he would appear, to tell her that her dreams had merely been a test, that this could somehow be avoided.

_Please, Aslan, if there is any other way…_

She hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud until Lucy asked, “Any other way for what?”

(Y/N)’s attention snapped to her sister, eyes wide with worry. She had all but confessed her Fate in front of Lucy.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, but Lucy was not Edmund or Caspian.

Lucy wouldn’t settle for such an answer.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve had a dream, haven’t you.”

(Y/N) sighed, once more looking up at the stone Lion. The hour was close at hand. The truth could hardly hurt anything.

“Not for the first time,” she admitted. “In fact… I’ve known this was coming since the night I turned eighteen. That was the night I first dreamed it, you see.”

“Dreamed… what?” Lucy asked uncertainly.

(Y/N) didn’t answer right away, lost in her thoughts.

At last, she found her voice.

“You must promise me that no matter the outcome of this battle, you shall not lose hope. You must find Aslan, Lucy, with all of that wonderful hope of yours, and that unending faith you possess. The calm before the storm is breaking now, and the darkest hour is upon me. I hold tightly now to what courage I have left…” She turned and looked her sister in the eye. “Do not let winter consume Narnia again.”

When Lucy spoke next, her voice was small.

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Tears welled in (Y/N)’s eyes, but she fought them back, for Lucy’s sake.

“Because it is,” she whispered, confessing her secret aloud for the first time ever.

Lucy at once began to cry, and she hugged (Y/N) tightly.

“Couldn’t you tell Peter?” she asked. “He would call it all off if he knew, you know he would….”

“I can’t, Lucy,” (Y/N) said, stroking the other girl’s hair in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. “Aslan has His reasons, you know that. I have to believe that it will all turn out alright. He is asking no more of me than He Himself once sacrificed for Edmund. And I daresay, if He can bear it, then I can too.”

She didn’t want to frighten Lucy, and so she kept to herself the worries she had, of what would become of her grandmother, and of all that might happen once she had gone on to Aslan’s country. No, those things, she kept secret in her heart, buried deep within, beneath the last of her waning courage.

Lucy hugged her tightly once more.

“Don’t go…” she whispered.

“You know I must…” said (Y/N) softly. “I know you will see Aslan again, Lucy, quite soon. And He will bring you comfort. So you must let me go, and you must not despair. Can you promise me that?”

Lucy nodded slowly. “I can try…”

(Y/N) smiled sadly and dried her sister’s tears.

“I will be alright…”

“(Y/N),” called a voice.

Caspian.

“We’re leaving now,” he said.

She nodded. “I’m coming.” Sighing, she smiled at Lucy one last time. “Goodbye, Lucy… Remember what I said.”

Lucy nodded, most of her tears now gone, though the grief remained.

And (Y/N) went with Caspian, though she knew she would be going to her doom.

Before they left, she first went to her chambers and took up that red cloak, the color of blood. She was the Red Lady, after all. It would serve as a fitting funeral shroud.

* * *

They made it to the castle just before nightfall, and took rest in the cover of the nearby woods until the sky grew dark, to recover their strength and to make final preparations. When the dead of night fell, the time had come to launch the attack. A select few, carried by Gryphons, infiltrated the castle itself.

First, they dispatched with the sentries to prevent the alarm being sounded. Edmund took up his post and signalled the troops with his electric torch, letting them know to quietly move into the lower town.

The Gryphons deposited Caspian, Susan, Peter, and (Y/N) at the rampart, where they made their way to the living quarters of Professor Cornelius. Caspian had been quite adamant that if they were going to be infiltrating the castle then they must also rescue his mentor. Peter, pleased to have Caspian’s cooperation, had readily agreed.

The four of them rappelled down the side of the castle and snuck into the chamber, but there was no one to be found. In fact, the place was in a state of disarray, as if it had been ransacked.

Caspian gently picked up a pair of spectacles that lay on the desk.

“I have to find him,” he said urgently.

“You don’t have time,” Peter countered, “You need to get the gate open.”

“You wouldn’t even be here without him!” Caspian insisted. “And neither would I.”

“I’ll go with him, Peter” (Y/N) offered. She wanted to help Caspian, to do some good before she died.

Peter seemed to consider it, looking to Susan for her opinion.

“You and I can deal with Miraz,” she offered.

“And I can still get to the gate in time,” Caspian insisted. “(Y/N) will help me.”

He nodded to the other two, then nodded to her. She followed closely as he rushed silently down the hallways.

“What would they have done with him?” (Y/N) whispered as they paused around a corner.

Caspian checked for guards, then replied softly as they crept along another passageway, “My uncle must have realized it was him who helped me escape that night… He would have had him arrested for it. Come, we’ve nearly reached the dungeons.”

(Y/N) followed him deeper into the Telmarine castle until they reached the cells. Together, working as swiftly and synchronously as they had on raids these past months, the two of them took care of the guards and found the keys.

There, at the bottom of the cells, an older man lay sleeping in a pile of straw on the floor.

Caspian unlocked the cell and quickly, and gently shook the man awake.

“Five more minutes?” he said, and by his tone, it must have been some sort of private joke between them. Quickly, he began to unlock the manacles that bound the Professor.

“What are you doing here?” the man demanded. “I didn’t help you escape, just so you could break back in!”

Caspian helped him to his feet, but that did not slow his admonitions.

“You have to get out,” he urged, “Before Miraz learns you are here.”

“He is going to learn soon enough,” Caspian said. “We are giving him your cell.”

He moved to leave, but the professor urgently grabbed him by the tunic and pulled him close.

“Don’t underestimate Miraz like your father did,” he warned.

(Y/N) saw the horrified realization on Caspian’s face, and her heart sank for him.

“What are you talking about?”

But the Professor gave him no real answer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Caspian--” she started, warning, but he had already gone.

Now, (Y/N) found herself faced with a choice. She could leave Caspian to confront Miraz alone, potentially resulting in his demise, while she ran to open the gate as Peter had asked, or she could go with him, to protect him and leave the gate unopened, risking the whole attack being called off.

Her heart had already made its decision.

He had gained a head start, but (Y/N) kept close behind him. By the time he reached Miraz’s chambers, he had regained enough composure to make a silent entrance.

(Y/N) arrived in time to find the door ajar, Caspian speaking lowly. She knew Peter and Susan were headed this way, and if they found this scene, they would be angry with Caspian for deviating from the plan.

“That doesn’t seem to have stopped _you_!” Caspian spat.

Miraz hissed some reply, but (Y/N) did not hear it. Instead, she focused on creeping silently into the room, keeping to the shadows. She saw the woman reach for the crossbow, and she nocked an arrow of her own. But, she hesitated.

This must be his aunt, Prunaprismia. The mother of his newborn cousin.

Could (Y/N) bring herself to attack this woman?

“Put the sword down, Caspian. I don’t want to do this.”

“Then I suggest you don’t.”

(Y/N) swiftly made her presence known, one of her golden-fletched arrows trained on the false king’s wife.

Miraz took pause when he saw her, draped in that cloak, and ever so faintly, he whispered, “The Red Lady…”

Just then, the doors burst open fully, revealing Susan and Peter, both with their weapons at the ready.

Prunaprismia seemed uncertain where to point her weapon, switching between Caspian, (Y/N), and Susan.

Miraz let out an exasperated sigh.

“This used to be a private room.”

Peter leveled a glare at Caspian.

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in the gatehouse!”

“No!” Caspian shouted, his breath trembling, “Tonight, for once, I want the truth.” He fixed Miraz with a dark glare, stepping closer. “Did you kill my father?” he demanded.

Though Miraz stumbled back at the threat of the blade, he seemed to smirk.

“Now we get to it,” he said, sounding far too pleased.

Prunaprismia looked stunned.

“You said your brother died in his sleep…”

“That was more or less true.”

The crossbow in her hands began to lower.

Susan tried to reason with the prince. “Caspian, this won’t make things any better!”

“We Telmarines would have had nothing, had we not taken it,” Miraz said. “Your father knew that as well as anyone.”

“How could you?” Prunaprismia accused.

“For the same reason you will pull that trigger! For our son!”

“Your husband is a murderer and a usurper, my lady,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Think carefully.”

Miraz stepped forward, forcing Caspian sto move back, lest he cut his uncle’s throat by accident.

“Stop!” Prunaprismia cried, raising the crossbow once more.

“Stay right there!”

“Don’t!”

“You need to make a choice, dear” Miraz continued, goading his wife, “Do you want our child to be king? Or do you want him to end up like Caspian, here… Fatherless!”

She let out a cry of anguish and pulled the trigger. But, it seemed she still had far more morals than her husband, for she merely grazed Caspian’s arm with the bolt, rather than a fatal wound. Susan and (Y/N) let their arrows fly, not at Prunaprismia, but at Miraz. Too late, however, for he had already escaped, amidst the chaos.

In the distance, an alarm began to sound.

“We have to go, now!” Susan said. “Come on!”

The four of them left the sobbing woman where she lay, racing down the halls. Caspian headed for the turrets to meet with the Gryphons, but Peter turned down a different passage.

“Peter!” Susan called.

“Our troops are just outside! Come on!”

(Y/N)’s blood ran cold. “Peter, no!”

But he had already gone. Exchanging a glance with Caspian and Susan, (Y/N) reluctantly followed, down to the courtyard. When they found him, he was trying to open the gate by himself.

“Peter! It’s too late!” Susan insisted. “We have to call it off while we can!”

“No,” he said, “I can still do this! Help me!”

Telmarine soldiers began to stream into the courtyard. They had no choice.

The other three began to help him turn the heavy spokes.

“Exactly who are you doing this for, Peter?” (Y/N) demanded.

But he didn’t answer.

Just as the Telmarines drew too near for comfort, the Narnian troops thundered into the courtyard. Susan took up her bow once more, and (Y/N), Peter, and Caspian took up their swords.

“For Narnia!” Peter cried, and they all rushed into the fray.

Fauns, Satyrs, and Big Cats quickly scaled the walls, overtaking the soldiers above. The Centaurs and Minotaurs cleared pathways down below.

The tide of battle seemed to be in favor of the Narnians.

When Miraz appeared up on his high balcony, watching but doing nothing, like the coward he was, Peter and a Satyr named Tyrus fought their way towards him.

(Y/N) attempted to keep an eye on their progress, but she couldn’t take her attention off of her enemy for long, lest she risk her visions coming true sooner than planned.

A wounded howl drew her attention, and she looked up in time to see Tyrus fall to his death. At the next moment, a great crash resounded throughout the courtyard, and the gate began to rattle closed.

Asterius, the Minotaur who had greeted (Y/N) and Caspian when they had first arrived at the How, threw himself beneath the gate, taking the full force of its weight to prevent the Narnians from being trapped.

“Fall back!” came Peter’s shout across the noise of the battle. “We need to retreat, now!”

“My lady!” came Brontan’s voice from beside her. “Climb onto my back, let me carry you to safety!”

“Not while my brother is still here!” she shouted back. “Go on without me!”

She would not let her noble friend die for her destiny.

He hesitated, but nodded his head to her, and quickly galloped out through the gate.

“Back to the gate!” Peter ordered. “Go!”

(Y/N) saw Glenstorm take Susan onto his back, leading the retreat.

“Peter!” (Y/N) called urgently. “Where is Caspian?”

His face softened. Any of the mixed emotions he had been feeling in regards to her love for Caspian must have dissipated now.

“I’ll find him,” he swore. _For you_ , was the unspoken message. “Now get out of here!”

“Not until you do!”

But it seemed he hadn’t heard her.

(Y/N) turned back to the fray and repeated the retreat order to every soldier she could find. They would need to be swift. Asterius couldn’t hold that gate forever. Even now, he was wilting beneath the strain.

At that very moment, Caspian burst into the courtyard on the back of a horse. His professor sat astride another, and there was a third, empty, presumably for Peter.

Peter continued to call for a retreat.

“Come, my Queen!” an unfamiliar voice called.

(Y/N) found herself drawn up onto horseback by a pair of strong arms. No, not a horse. A Centaur. One of Glenstorm’s sons, Rainstone. He galloped towards the gate as fast as he could.

“Now!” came the order of Miraz.

Crossbow bolts sliced through the air, striking Asterius. Grief seized (Y/N)’s heart for her dear friend’s sacrifice. But, he could last no longer, and though he heaved the gate high with the last of his strength, he fell at last under its weight.

Rainstone came to a stop at the gate.

“Forgive me, my Queen,” he said. “I was not swift enough.”

“No,” she replied. “There is nothing to forgive, my friend.”

Through the bars, she met Peter’s eyes. He went as pale as death itself when the realization struck him.

She could see, he was saying her name, but he was too far away to hear his voice.

“Go!”

“Run for your life!”

“Save yourself!”

The cries of her people rang out, selfless as they were, even in the certainty of death.

“Go, Peter!” (Y/N) called to him, grief breaking her voice. She didn’t want him to witness her end. “Go!”

She leapt down from Rainstone’s back and shouted to her people, “Narnians, to me!”

In the distance, she could hear Reepicheep warning Peter that the bridge was being drawn up, but she paid it no mind.

“Let us die like true Narnians!” she cried to them, taking up a shield from a fallen soldier. “Let us not die like cowards, pleading for our last breaths! Take to the ramparts, into the castle! We shall die for the freedom of our people! For Narnia! And for Aslan!”

“To the Queen!” someone cried, and the others all took up the call.

“For Narnia!”

“For Aslan!”

“Charge!”

It was to be their end. But they would make such an end as to be remembered til the end of time. Those who could climb leapt up onto the balconies from whence the Telmarines fired their bolts. Those who could not, charged with all their might into the heart of the castle. Some did not make it past the courtyard.

(Y/N) was one of them.

Miraz the coward had left his own men to die, though some of them continued to fight. She blocked the strike of one man with the shield and slashed her blade at another.

The first bolt struck her then. The shield fell from her hand and she dropped to her knees. Around her, she saw her people fighting and dying, and she resolved not to give in to this pain.

She rose, and continued to fight with all of her might, even as the second bolt found her flesh.

The third bolt came when she had felled all of the Telmarines around her, and all of her people had been struck down. She alone now stood. But that third bolt had signed her death warrant.

This time she did not stand again. She lay on that cobblestone courtyard, and her last sight was of the night sky. Through the gray clouds, she saw Alambil, the Lady of Peace, shining brightly to guide her home. The time had come to rest.

* * *

Edmund knew something was wrong. The Gryphon who had rescued him from the tower flew over the courtyard, but it was far too silent.

And then, he saw it. Fallen Narnians and Telmarines littered the courtyard. So many, so many were dead.

His heart stopped when he took notice of a red figure in the center of it all. That red cloak was unmistakable.

“No…” he said, and the Gryphon took notice.

“The Queen,” he cried.

But a warning shout from the Telmarines alerted them that they had been spotted, and the noble Gryphon followed after the rest of their troops before the crossbows could be employed against them. There was nothing to be done. They had to leave her there.

But it was undeniable.

The Red Lady was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always... let me know what you think :)


	15. The Hour of Doom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the tail end of the last part because @mywinterivy on Tumblr sent an ask that got the creative gears turning, and I was like “Hm, this is better.” I didn’t change too much, just the very end.
> 
> TL;DR: I edited things, and Red’s body got left at the Telmarine castle rather than being recovered by the Narnians.

The remaining Narnian troops made their way back to the How in a somber, slow procession. Several of the soldiers limped or held their sides as they walked, their injuries taking a toll.

At the entrance of the How, the youngest Queen stood waiting.

“What happened?” she asked, taking in the sight of their numbers. She already knew part of the answer, and intentionally avoided looking for the red cloak which she knew she would not find.

“Ask him,” Peter replied shortly, moving to head past her into the How.

“Peter,” Susan warned.

But Caspian would not let that slight go unchallenged.

At long last, the silence of the journey was broken as all of the grief and anguish from the two young men who had most felt the loss of the Resilient Queen came pouring forth, disguised as anger and hatred.

“Me?” Caspian asked in disbelief, slowing in his pace. “You could have called it off, there was still time.”

“No there wasn’t, thanks to you!” Peter snapped back. “If you’d kept to the plan, those soldiers might still be alive. _She_ might still be alive.” His voice broke with grief.

Caspian’s recoiled, the mention of (Y/N) striking a nerve.

“And if you’d just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be! _She_ definitely would be!”

“You called us, remember?” Peter said.

“My first mistake,” Caspian said. “I would rather that she lived, even if it meant I never met her.”

Now they weren’t merely fighting over who was at fault for the attack going awry. It was clear. Everyone could sense it.

They were fighting over whose fault it was that _she_ died.

“No,” Peter said, “Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people.”

“Hey!” Caspian shouted.

Peter whirled to face him, seemingly startled by the outburst, but ready for a fight.

“ _She_ believed in me! She was the reason I believed in myself. From the stories she told me of you, she thought so highly of you. I thought you would be different. But you are not the King I thought you were. You are not the King _she_ thought you were! And I am not the one who abandoned Narnia.”

Peter swiftly moved closer, his eyes ablaze.

“You _invaded_ Narnia,” he spat, the mention of his sister setting a fire alight in his chest. “You have no more right to lead it than Miraz does!”

Caspian shoved past him, towards the How, unwilling to hear any more.

But Peter did not stop.

“You, him, your father! Narnia’s better off without the lot of you! And she would still be here without your kind!”

With a cry of rage, Caspian drew his sword, and Peter did too. The blades met with a great clash of metal, but before things could escalate, Edmund put an end to it.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “This isn’t what (Y/N) would have wanted!”

Lucy pushed herself between them the moment they lowered their swords.

“She knew she was going to her death, she made her choice,” she said sternly. “And it’s no one’s fault! It was a dream she’d had… So just stop it!”

And she left them, staring at each other as the realization set in, to kneel at Trumpkin’s side. As she took up her healing cordial, Caspian slipped away. Peter’s attention had been drawn, and he needed a moment to himself.

A dream she’d had… That must have been why she had pushed him away. He had seen her true feelings in her eyes that night, had felt it in her sweet kiss. It made sense now. But it didn’t hurt any less.

Briefly, the memory crossed his mind of her words that night, her request to be laid to rest on the Stone Table. He had no way to fulfill her wish. His grief only compounded into anger at that notion, but, then, another thought struck him. He remembered, when they had talked, she had mentioned asking that of Peter back in the Golden Age. How long had she known her Fate?

Caspian found himself in the passage that led to the Stone Table’s hall, staring at that image of her, before her throne at Cair Paravel. Out of order, she had said… Even so, it was the only thing he had left of her now.

“Are you so glad of that magic horn now, boy?” came Nikabrik’s voice. The Dwarf stood at the entrance of the passageway, watching him with a sneer. “Your kings and queens have failed us,” he pressed on. “The young woman you loved is dead, along with half your army. And those that aren’t will be soon enough.”

He thought that the mention of (Y/N) ought to have made him angry again, but more than anything, he felt tired, so very tired.

“What do you want?” he asked wearily. “Congratulations?”

“You want your uncle’s blood,” Nikabrik said. “So do we. You want his throne? _We_ can get it for you.”

Something deep inside of Caspian told him to be wary; something that sounded dreadfully like (Y/N)’s voice, but he pushed it aside. No one else must die.

When the Dwarf moved past him, further down the passage, he cast one last glance at the carving of _her_ , and then followed.

Nikabrik brought him around behind the Stone Table to stand before the image of Aslan. He faced the Table, that warning in his heart growing stronger.

“You tried one Ancient Power,” said the Dwarf. “It failed. But there is a power greater still… One that kept even Aslan at bay for near a hundred years.”

A low snarl echoed in the chamber, and Caspian drew his sword.

“Who’s there?”

“I am hunger… I am thirst…” snarled a low, slow voice. “I can fast a hundred years… and not die.”

A slow, shuffling figure emerged from the darkness to his right. Then, another shambled forwards from the left.

“I can lie a hundred nights on the ice… and not freeze. I can drink… a _river_ of blood…. And not burst. Show… me… your enemies!”

The figure on his right threw back its hood to reveal a snarling Werewolf.

Caspian leveled his sword at it, but the figure on his left began to speak now.

“What you hate, so will we…”

A Hag. (Y/N) had told him of the night Aslan had died… these kinds of creatures had been present, in the company of the White Witch.

“No one hates better than us…”

But still… he hesitated.

“And you can… _guarantee_ Miraz’s death?”

The Hag bowed low to him.

“And more,” she promised.

Against his better judgement, Caspian sheathed his sword.

A low thrum of magic began to sound in rhythm.

“Let the circle be drawn!” wheezed the Hag.

The Werewolf dragged his claw against the stone floor, circling Caspian as the Hag chanted.

It filled him with even more dread with each word she spoke.

At last, she withdrew an object from her cloak that made his blood run cold. He remembered well the stories that (Y/N) had told. He had clung to every word.

The wand of the White Witch, that Edmund had broken.

It had been made whole.

The Hag stabbed the wand into the stone stair before him, and ice crept along the columns, filling the archway, extinguishing the torches on either side. Moments later, the spectre of a woman appeared, and he knew.

“Wait… This isn’t what I wanted!” he said, but even as he spoke, his mind grew heavy with a fog. The circle… He tried to move out of it, but the Werewolf took hold of him, forcing his arm out straight.

“One drop of Adam’s blood… and you free me,” she said. Her voice was exactly how (Y/N) had described. “Then I am yours… my king.”

The Hag drew a knife from her cloak. Caspian tried to pull away, but the infernal Werewolf’s hold was too strong, and the metal bit into his palm.

The Witch pushed her hand through the barrier, that small part of her allowed back to the world of the living, and as she crossed the threshold, the fog in Caspian’s mind darkened, and he seemed to lose all his reason.

The Werewolf let go of him, but he did not move away.

There came a shout from behind him, and the faint clamor of battle resounded, but he paid it no mind.

The Witch, however, suddenly looked nervous.

“Come on,” she urged, “Come…”

Suddenly, Caspian found himself shoved aside by Peter, who took his place in the circle.

“Get away from him!”

Caspian lay on the ground, wincing, willing that spell to flee from his mind. The sound of cracking ice brought him back to reality at last.

Slowly, he stood as the sheet of ice began to crumble. With an angry cry and an explosion of ice, the Witch was gone. Behind where she had been moments ago, Edmund stood, glaring at Peter.

“I know,” he said bitterly. “You had it sorted.”

He moved to the side, and the carved image of Aslan loomed over them, filling the chamber with a great feeling of disappointment.

Caspian hesitated, then looked to Peter.

“How did you know what was happening?” he asked.

Peter glanced at him, but it seemed that he was in no mood to start another fight.

“Lucy,” he replied. “Before we left… (Y/N) told her what was going to happen. And… she warned her not to let Narnia fall to winter again. When we couldn’t find you, Edmund suddenly recognized her Dark Magic in the air, and…”

Caspian merely nodded. His mind was heavy with his thoughts.

Peter had been taken in by the Witch’s spell too, but it didn’t make him feel any better. No matter how understanding she had been, Caspian couldn’t help but feel that (Y/N) would be disappointed in him.

And that was a thought he could not bear.

* * *

Days later, when the last of the ice had gone, Peter sat at the back of the Stone Table, staring up at the image of Aslan. Lucy came to sit beside him.

“You’re lucky, you know,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“To have seen Him. I wish he’d just given me… some sort of proof.”

“Maybe we’re the ones who need to prove ourselves to Him,” Lucy suggested.

They let a comfortable silence linger, until Peter spoke again.

“I wish she had told me…” he said. “More than that, I wish I would have listened to the things she _did_ say. She had so much love in her heart… for us, for our people…”

“For Caspian,” Lucy said, with a small smile.

Peter gave a soft, sad laugh. “Yes, for him too, I suppose.” He sighed. “She once asked me… She once asked me to lay her to rest on the Stone Table. Back in the Golden Age, when she had nearly been killed in that attack, with the last of the Witch’s followers. I didn’t understand at the time… but she must have known even then.”

“We should honor her wish, when we get her back…” Lucy said softly.

“We should,” Peter murmured. Lucy said _when_ , and he admired that, but in truth, he didn’t believe they would ever recover their sister.

At that moment, Edmund came around the Table, searching for them.

“Peter?” he called softly, as if he realized he was interrupting. “You’d better come quickly.”

The Telmarines had arrived.

* * *

“I, Peter, by the gift of Aslan,” Edmund read from the scroll, “By election and by conquest, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands, in order to prevent the abominable effusion of blood, do hereby challenge the usurper Miraz to single combat on the field of battle. The fight shall be to the death. The reward shall be total surrender.”

With all that said and done, he began to roll up the scroll. Even during the Golden Age, he had always been the diplomat among them, he and (Y/N), but he did not relish his skill at the moment, as it led him to face the man who was behind his sister’s death. For it had been Miraz who gave the order… and the Telmarines alone knew what had been done with her afterwards.

Had they buried her, he wondered? Given her some funeral pyre? Or had they simply done away with her like she was nothing?

“Tell me, Prince Edmund,” Miraz began.

“King,” he corrected.

“...Pardon me?”

“It’s _King_ Edmund, actually,” he said. “Just “king,” though. Peter’s the _High_ King. I know, it’s confusing.”

Miraz glanced at his council, but didn’t acknowledge Edmund’s remark.

“We have already laid low your Red Lady. Her reputation proved nothing more than legend… Without your most terrifying warrior, how can you expect to stand a chance? Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?”

Caspian had been right. Miraz was nothing but a coward. The jabs about (Y/N) made his blood boil, but Edmund forced himself to stay calm. He would need to goad Miraz somehow, provoke him into accepting the challenge. It could get tricky, though…

“Haven’t you already underestimated our numbers?” he pointed out. “I mean, only a week ago, Narnians were extinct.”

Miraz smirked. “And so you will be again.”

“Well then, you should have little to fear.”

At that, Miraz laughed, but Edmund could see it was just a front, for the benefit of appearances.

“This is not a question of bravery,” Miraz dismissed.

Time to get under his skin.

“So you’re _bravely_ refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?”

At that, Miraz paused, then leaned forward.

“I didn’t say I refused.”

“You shall have our support, Your Majesty,” spoke one of the councilmen. “Whatever your decision…”

“Sire,” spoke one man at his right. Lord Sopespian, likely, from what Caspian had said. “Our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid what might otherwise be--”

“I am not avoiding anything!” Miraz snarled, standing with his sword in hand.

Sopespian recoiled, but Edmund could have sworn there lay a hint of a smirk behind his surprised expression.

“I was merely pointing out that My Lord is well within his rights to refuse…”

“His majesty would never refuse,” spoke the general standing watch. 

Miraz turned his gaze on the man, almost looking frightened.

“He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new king.”

Interesting…

Miraz scowled, but pointed his sword at Edmund.

“You,” he said. “You should hope your brother’s sword is sharper than his pen.”

Edmund barely managed to conceal his satisfaction as he nodded.

“Then we shall arrange for a duelling ground, equal distance from both armies, with three Marshalls of the Lists afforded to each participant,” he said, and he could see that Miraz was surprised by his intimate knowledge of the customs and rules of duelling.

But he did not let it show.

“Of course,” the false king said. Then, a thought seemed to occur to him. “And as a sign of good faith, let us impart a gift to the Narnians…”

Edmund had a bad feeling about what this “gift” might be.

Miraz signalled to one of his men, and a pair of Telmarine soldiers soon made their way over to the tent, a litter stretched between them. On it lay a still figure, draped in red.

“The body of your Queen,” said Miraz, as simply as if he were inviting the Narnias to dinner.

Edmund signalled to Glenstorm, and the centaur came closer with the Giant, Wimbleweather.

If he hadn’t known better, Edmund could have mistaken her stillness for slumber, save for the three crossbow bolts that had been left exactly where they had struck her.

It was no sign of good faith. It was a message.

Wimbleweather took the Queen into his great arms, leaving the litter behind, and with one of his large hands, he delicately, and with great respect, removed the arrows one by one, in the sight of the Telmarine council.

The Narnians would not take such a message back to their people, and they would make certain the Telmarines knew as much.

Edmund took the arrows from the Giant and turned to Miraz.

“We thank you for your act of good faith,” he said, somehow managing to keep his tone genuine through his anger. “But I believe these ought to be returned to their own nation as well.”

He stepped forward and set the bolts on the table, right in front of Miraz.

“We shall see you at the duel.”

And with that, he left, with Glenstorm and Wimbleweather, who carried (Y/N), leaving the Telmarines to stare at the evidence of their crime.

* * *

“You should have seen it, Peter,” Edmund was saying. “His own council practically turned on him. As diplomatically as they could, anyways. They backed him into a corner. I think they might hate him more than we do.”

Caspian listened in as he prepared his own horse, Destrier, for Lucy and Susan.

“Well,” said Peter, “All we can do now is hope. But we’ll have to keep an eye out for treachery with them… Especially after the insult they presented us, using _her_ like that.”

Their voices faded as they moved further away, and Caspian was almost glad for it. He didn’t want to hear about what had happened with (Y/N). He chose to be grateful that at the very least, they were now able to fulfill her wish of being laid to rest upon the Stone Table.

Susan and Lucy soon arrived, and he helped each of them onto the horse’s back. Brontan had volunteered to take them, but in the end, the Queens had convinced him that he would be more needed on the battlefield.

“Destrier has always served me well,” he said. “You are in good hands.”

“Or hooves,” Lucy joked.

He paused, letting a small smile creep onto his face. Then, the weight of the situation set in once more.

“Good luck,” he said.

Susan thanked him shortly, and he couldn’t help but wonder if some part of her blamed him for her sister’s death.

“Look,” said Caspian, drawing the horn and the compass from his belt. “Maybe it is time you had this back.” He held out the horn to her first, then the compass. “And this… Perhaps your sister’s compass could guide you to Aslan.”

But Susan shook her head.

“Keep it,” she said gently, with a small smile. “(Y/N) gave it to you for a reason. She would want you to have it. And as for the horn…” The smile vanished from her face. “Where we’re going, only Aslan can help us now.”

And with that, she spurred Destrier on, and Caspian was alone once more.

* * *

He could hear the cheers of both armies outside. He knew Peter would be fighting his uncle soon, and yet, here he knelt, behind the Stone Table, penitent before the image of Aslan.

(Y/N) had been laid carefully on the broken Table. He dared not gaze upon her face, for she looked far too peaceful. Far too peaceful to be dead.

“Aslan,” Caspian spoke with a grief-laden voice, “I do not know if you can hear me, or if you even want to listen, but I come to you now with this request. I am begging you… Please, bring her back. Her people, _your_ people, need her. I need her…

“She said you chose me. And I give you my vow, I will do all that is within my power to lead and free these people. All I ask… is that you bring her back. Even if you must take my life instead…”

He was answered only by silence. The compass felt heavy on his belt. He reached down and opened it. The needle did not spin, but rather, it lay still.

(Y/N)’s words rang in his head.

This was not where he needed to be.

Susan and Lucy.

Caspian leapt to his feet. He had work to do.

* * *

(Y/N) awoke on a beach. All her pain had gone, but it took her a moment to adjust to the brightness of day. When last she had closed her eyes, it had been night. She sat up, slowly, uncertain of where she now found herself.

She had expected to go to Aslan’s Country, but… it was merely a beach.

On one side, a sea white with lilies stretched as far as the eye could see. On the other… Now, this gave her pause.

A large wave rose straight up into the air. Just beyond the wave, she could faintly make out the silhouette of a grand city on a hill.

“(Y/N).”

Aslan.

She turned to face the Great Lion, and her relief upon seeing him was instant. (Y/N) leapt to her feet and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his mane.

“Aslan,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so…”

He chuckled and hugged her close with a golden paw.

Then, she paused.

“I died…”

“Yes,” said the Lion.

“But this isn’t your Country.”

“No.”

Her heart went cold.

“Are you sending me away?”

Aslan chuckled softly. “Not at all, my Oracle. For you see, you have a choice to make.”

“A choice?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You may journey beyond the Great Wave, as far East as any can go, to my Country, where you shall find peace and rest, beyond even the end of Time.”

“Or?”

“You may turn West, towards the Shining Sea, and return. To life, and to the battle that awaits.”

At the very mention of the life she had left, the sites of each of the three wounds that had felled her flared with a dull pain.

“Everyone I knew in the Golden Age… Will I find them in your Country?” she asked. “Oreius and Clemendia, their son, Glenstorm… Tumnus and the Beavers… Haveron?”

Aslan gave her a gentle yet stern look.

“The answers you seek shall only be found by crossing into that land for yourself,” he replied.

(Y/N) already knew what she would choose, but she let herself entertain the thought of seeing her friends linger a little while longer. Perhaps Rainstone, the son of this Age’s Glenstorm might be there as well… and Asterius and Tyrus…

But she had a duty to those of her people still living, and to her family.

The pain of those three wounds intensified.

“I know what I must do.”

“Not what you must, but what you choose in your heart,” Aslan said. “For you have served me faithfully, and it is well within your right to claim your place in my Country if you wish.”

(Y/N) nodded.

“You’re right… you always are. But I _want_ to return. I _could_ seek peace, but if by toiling in life a little longer, I could save any lives or bring any goodness to the land, then that is what I shall do.”

“You show the heart for which I chose you more and more each day,” said the Lion with a smile. Then, he grew serious again. “But your journey back will not be an easy one, for there is much you must overcome to rejoin the world of the living.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What do you mean?”

But as she turned towards the Shining Sea, all at once, she felt it. Pain crashed over her like a wave in a storm.

When she looked down, she suddenly found the three arrows that had slain her, embedded in her flesh once more.

The pain nearly overwhelmed her, but the dead cannot die again, and so she found no relief. She fell to her knees as the shafts twisted inside.

Aslan stepped closer, his presence comforting, his eyes great and sad.

“Three arrows,” he spoke, “For three years you gained that your siblings did not. In those three years, you lost hope, and allowed yourself to despair. That despair became a poisoned barb, embedded in your soul. It changed you. But now you must let go of your doubts, your fears… Trust me, my Seer. Remove these arrows of darkness and take up your sword.”

(Y/N) looked down, and saw her sword on the sand in front of her. She reached up to one of the arrows, and tried to pull it free, but the pain was too great and her strength too weak. Though she fought with everything within her, she could not free herself from the pain.

“I can’t do it, Aslan,” she cried. “I cannot do this on my own.”

The thought of turning and running headlong into the Great Wave tempted her. Aslan’s Country would alleviate her pain and bring her happiness… But she couldn’t. She simply needed help, from one who could save her from herself.

Aslan stepped closer, standing right in front of her.

“You need only ask, (Y/N).”

“Help me, Aslan,” she gasped out.

The Great Lion bowed his head, and with his great paw, he drew the arrows one by one from her flesh. With the removal of each arrow, the pain at first worsened, but then was immediately soothed by the wonderful warmth of magic, of her soul healing.

Filled with a renewed strength and purpose, she took up her sword and got to her feet.

“Thank you, Aslan…” she said, petting his mane. “I’m sorry to have doubted you all these years… Can you forgive me?”

“My dear,” he said, with a knowing smile, “It has already been forgiven.”

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) turned once more to face the Shining Sea, white with lilies, and she walked towards the horizon with purpose. The further she walked into the water, she noticed she did not float, nor was she swept up in any current. Her feet stayed securely on the bottom of the sand even as the water rose above her chest.

Though it frightened her, she trusted in Aslan, and continued to walk forward, and when the water had covered her completely, she heard, in the distance a mighty roar.

With a gasp, she sat bolt upright on the Stone Table.

* * *

Peter approached the duelling place with his three Marshals of the Lists at his side. The time had come. Part of him was afraid. Afraid to fight, afraid to lose, afraid to die.

But it was no more than his sister had done with the knowledge of foresight. He could withstand it for Narnia’s sake.

He saw Miraz stand, and Peter drew his sword from the scabbard which Edmund held.

The Narnians cheered loudly.

Miraz grabbed his helmet, murmuring something unheard to his Marshals of the Lists, but before he could put it on, he caught sight of something behind Peter, and fear kindled in his eyes.

Even the Narnians went silent.

Peter, Edmund, Glenstorm, and the eldest Bulgy Bear all turned to see what had caused the interruption.

A figure walked up from the entrance of the How, draped in a red cloak that blew in the breeze.

“Impossible…” Miraz said.

But their eyes did not deceive them. The Red Lady was alive.

(Y/N) drew nearer until Peter could have reached out and touched her, but she walked past him and stood in the center of the duelling ground.

“Miraz,” she said, and her voice resounded like a call of judgement. “Beware, Miraz.”

The false king watched her with undeniable fear.

“The hour of your doom is close at hand,” said the Queen. “It is knocking at the door… can you hear it?”

Miraz shifted his weight, scowling to try to regain some composure, and put his helmet on.

The Red Lady gave him one last knowing smile, then turned, and moved back to her brother's side.

“Peter…”

“(Y/N)...” he whispered. “But… how--”

“No time for that now, I’m afraid,” she said. “You have a duel to fight.”

Peter nodded, silently, but before he stepped up to face Miraz, he wrapped her in a desperate embrace.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, holding him tightly. “Just do what you can.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter turned to face Miraz, filled now with more hope and confidence than before.

(Y/N) smiled softly at Edmund, who could not resist embracing her as well.

There would be time for further reunions later, however. For the duel had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that chapter got a little more morbid than I intended. I definitely dove headfirst into the textual symbolism with this part but honestly I regret nothing. And the resurrection might have seemed fast, but honestly, I just couldn’t bear to keep dear Red out of the count for so long!
> 
> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone!


	16. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance :)

Though Miraz was a coward, he was also an undeniably skilled fighter. He and Peter seemed evenly matched in their duel, even in spite of Miraz’s fear at seeing (Y/N)

They traded blows, but ultimately, to no end. At one point, Peter fell to the ground, and it looked as if that would be the end of him, as Miraz threw his weight onto the shield, wrenching Peter’s arm. But Peter had always been the best at duelling in the Golden Age, and that skill returned to him now as he fought for his life.

(Y/N) did worry, about what might happen if he lost, but at the same time, she felt oddly at peace about whatever end might come. Aslan knew what He was doing.

When the sound of a horse neighing drew Peter’s attention, (Y/N) didn’t dare take her eyes off of the fight, until Miraz suddenly suggested a respite. For a moment, she relaxed, but when she turned towards the sound of the approaching horse, her heart leapt.

Caspian.

Where she stood, behind Edmund, it would be impossible for the prince to see her, though she could see him.

Peter limped off of the duelling grounds over to (Y/N) and the Marshalls, and Caspian and Susan dismounted from the horse.

Susan spotted her first. The shock lingered on her face for only a moment, and she instantly drew her sister into a tight hug.

“How?” she whispered.

“Aslan,” (Y/N) said in reply, hugging her back.

Susan nodded, and turned to Peter, who looked worried.

“Lucy?” he asked.

“She got through,” said Susan, glancing at Caspian. “With a little help.”

Peter nodded to Caspian. “Thanks.”

“Well, you were busy…” he said absently, but his eyes were wide, his gaze fixed on (Y/N), who he had noticed at last.

Peter said something else to Susan, but neither Caspian nor (Y/N) noticed as she headed off into the How. They were far too busy trying to find the right words to say to each other.

Caspian was fighting every instinct to sweep her into his arms and to cover her lips with his own. Now was not the time or place.

Still, it felt as though all language and reason had gone from his mind at the sight of her. He found himself astounded, and simultaneously unsurprised. He had, after all, begged Aslan for this very thing to happen, and yet some small part of him had not expected the Great Lion to even hear his plea, much less to grant it.

“Caspian,” she said softly, and his name on her lips at that moment became the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life.

He could refrain no longer.

Swiftly, he stepped forward and took her into his arms, though he only _just_ managed to stop himself from kissing her. One hand held her close while the other cradled her head. She pressed her forehead against the crook of his neck, hiding her face against his chest, and he very nearly felt his heart stop.

It was only when the Narnians sent up a great cheer in response to Peter that the two of them returned to the reality of the situation.

Caspian turned to take Peter’s shield from him as (Y/N) helped him to sit. The eldest Pevensie winced.

“Your shoulder…”(Y/N) said, in a questioning way.

“I think it’s dislocated,” Peter said.

Edmund came around to his side and began to tend to the wound as Caspian rifled through the medical supplies.

(Y/N) stood perfectly still, her posture that of the cool and composed Queen Caspian knew her to be, as she stared Miraz dead in the eye.

“What do you think happens back home if you die here?” Peter asked suddenly, drawing the others from their thoughts. He looked at (Y/N), but she had no answer for him. She didn’t know.

Peter took a shaky breath and looked back at Edmund. “You know, you’ve always been there for me, and I never really--”

He cut off with a sharp groan as Edmund put his shoulder back into place.

“Save it for later,” Edmund said.

“It’ll be alright, Peter,” said (Y/N). “Don’t give up.”

Peter nodded and stood, ready to face Miraz once more.

Their clash was more brutal than before. Miraz, more desperate now, relied heavily on his strength.

At some point, Peter abandoned his shield, and managed to wrench Miraz’s sword from him. The other man still had his shield, however, and made good use of it.

Soon enough, neither one of them had a sword, and the duel was in danger of becoming a brawl.

Miraz threw Peter against a block of stone and seized a sword, but Peter deflected the blows with his gauntlets, forcing Miraz back until he could seize an advantage, driving a fist into the wound he had made earlier on Miraz’s thigh.

The false king staggered back, reeling in pain, begging for respite with a hand raised in temporary surrender.

Peter surged forwards after him, but as the other man fell to a knee, pleading, the merciful and fair High King emerged, having been absent for too long, and he pulled away.

“Now’s not the time for chivalry, Pete!” Edmund called, but he knew his brother would not deny the request.

But Miraz, the coward, did not deserve Peter’s justice. He made to attack the younger man as his back turned.

“Look out!” (Y/N) called in warning.

Peter turned just in time to dodge the blow from Miraz. He wrested the sword from the other man and drove it up under his arm, slipping the blade between two plates of armor to strike a debilitating blow.

Miraz fell to his knees, and Peter stood above him, sword raised.

“What’s the matter, boy?” Miraz spat, mistaking Peter’s hesitation for fear. “Too cowardly to take a life?”

But Peter faced him calmly, lowering the sword.

“It’s not mine to take.”

He turned to Caspian, holding the hilt out to him.

Caspian glanced at (Y/N), panic briefly flashing over his face. Slowly, he stepped forward and took the sword from Peter, who retrieved his own sword and moved over to stand between (Y/N) and Edmund.

The three of them watched as Caspian and Miraz exchanged words, too soft for any of them to hear. He raised the sword…

(Y/N) knew he had been chosen by Aslan. He would be king no matter what. But in this moment, he would decide what _kind_ of king he would be.

With a great cry, Caspian plunged the sword downwards… driving it into the earth, a small patch of grass between the aging stonework. He said one final thing to Miraz, then raised his voice.

“Keep your life. But I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom.”

He turned and walked back to the others.

(Y/N) knew she was practically beaming, but she couldn’t care to hide it. Caspian had made her proud, and now, they had won. Glenstorm raised his sword in salute to Caspian, and a great cheer roared up from the Narnians. This whole matter was far from over, but the matter of Caspian’s character had been settled.

In spite of herself, and in spite of her wedding vision, she pulled Caspian close and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before Peter and Edmund and Susan and all of the Narnians. He seemed surprised, but smiled, and they turned towards the How together.

A sudden shout drew their attention.

Miraz fell dead, and Sopespian looked on with dramatic shock. One of Susan’s red-fletched arrows jutted from the body of the false king. But the angle was all wrong, there had been no way she could have shot him.

Treachery.

“Be ready!” Peter shouted to the troops, recognizing at once what had happened.

Caspian shouted a warning to him, the third Telmarine Marshall of the Lists was advancing on him from behind. From Caspian’s side, (Y/N) quickly drew her bow and nocked an arrow, skillfully finding the weak junction in the man’s armor with her shot, ending his charge before he even neared her brothers.

“Go!” Peter called.

“(Y/N)!” Caspian called. “Come with me!”

The two of them ran to the horse he and Susan had arrived on, and climbed up onto its back.

Under any other circumstances, the two of them might have been distracted by how close they were to each other, but the threat of the charging Telmarine army firmly placed that notion as the furthest thing from their minds.

The very ground shook as the Telmarine catapults slung boulder after boulder at the How. Caspian urged the horse down into the mouth of the How, to where yet another host of Narnians awaited. Among them, Brontan awaited, neighing happily when he spotted the Queen alive and well.

Skillfully, (Y/N) leapt from Caspian’s horse to Brontan’s back, and Caspian began to lead an underground charge. As they rode, a loud Narnian fanfare could be heard, some sort of signal. Since (Y/N) had not been present for the making of the battle plans, she readily followed Caspian’s lead, trusting him to guide their soldiers.

As she and Brontan rode close beside Caspian, she could hear him counting steadily under his breath. When he reached ten, he gave a signal, and the strongest Narnians at once began to destroy the supporting columns beneath the ground.

Ahead, a pair of Dwarfs pulled loose a ramp from the ceiling, and the troops rode out from the How.

(Y/N) looked around and saw that their work below had created a great crater into which the charging Telmarines had fallen. Their underground troops now circled around, surrounding the Telmarines. It was quite brilliant, and (Y/N) was rather pleased to see how capable they had been in her absence.

And so the battle began in full.

Soon enough, however, Peter called the troops back to the How, not wanting to repeat the tragedy of the attack on the castle, but a few well aimed boulders from the war machines of the Telmarines put a stop to their retreat.

(Y/N) climbed down from Brontan’s back as Caspian dismounted his horse, and the two of them went to Peter’s side. Susan and Edmund joined them, and the five of them shared a knowing glance.

This might very well become their last stand.

Wordlessly, they turned, simultaneously, and led the charge.

The Narnians fought as hard as they could, even as the Telmarines advanced.

(Y/N) and Caspian never strayed too far from each other’s sides, but there came a moment when the two of them were separated by more soldiers than they could handle.

And (Y/N) watched helplessly as Caspian fell into the pit. With no hesitation, she vanquished the soldiers that had kept her from him, and threw herself in after him.

The chaos there in the great chasm was disorienting. She looked round wildly for Caspian, and only just managed to spot him in time. He lay on the ground, having lost his sword somewhere in the fray, and a Telmarine soldier was running at him, hefting a great spear. It looked to be that general, though (Y/N) had hoped the man would have some sort of conscience.

He seemed to be hesitating, staring at Caspian with something like regret…

But she wasn’t willing to take that chance.

Remembering how she had seen Peter shatter the White Witch’s wand all those years ago, (Y/N) put all the strength she had into her sword as she brought the blade down on the edge of the spear, very nearly cutting General Glozelle’s hand in the process.

The tip of the spear was cloven off, and the general stumbled back. (Y/N) placed herself firmly in front of Caspian.

Glozelle stared at her, frozen for a moment, then began to back away, as if in surrender. But, at that moment, a root burst out of the earth ceiling above, tossing him about like a ragdoll til he was knocked unconscious.

(Y/N) pulled Caspian to his feet, then the two of them took hold of Peter and Edmund’s arms, outstretched to them to help the two out of the pit. The Telmarines began to retreat in fear as the Narnians looked on in hope.

“Lucy,” Peter said.

A great battle cry rose up from the Narnians.

The trees stretched forth their great roots and destroyed the war machines of the Telmarines, and the Narnians found the strength to regroup.

“For Aslan!” Peter shouted, and the Narnian troops took up the cry as they charged, driving the Telmarines back from whence they’d come.

They chased the Telmarines all the way to the river, where they soon heard a mighty roar, and the one to whom it belonged could be no other than Aslan himself. The roar summoned the great spirit of the river, who destroyed the bridge within his waters, drenching most of the Telmarines, and killing the wicked Lord Sopespian.

The Narnians lined up along the shores on either side, promising the Telmarines safety in return for surrender.

Susan, Peter, Edmund, Caspian, and (Y/N) waded across together to go to where Aslan and Lucy awaited.

Lucy had a bright smile on her face at the sight of (Y/N).

The five who had just come from battle, knelt before Aslan.

“Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia,” he said.

Peter, Susan, Edmund, and (Y/N) stood, but Caspian remained kneeling.

“All of you.”

Caspian slowly looked up, disbelief written across his features.

“I do not think I am ready,” he said.

But Aslan simply smiled wisely.

“It’s for that very reason I know you are.”

Emboldened by the Great Lion’s faith in him, Caspian stood.

Despite knowing that he was not meant for her, (Y/N) let her hand find his.

Everything would be alright now.

Or, so she hoped.

* * *

The day of Caspian’s coronation had arrived, and (Y/N) could tell that he was nervous, so of course she went to see him just before the ceremony.

Each tender interaction with him, she warned herself, was a mistake. But she couldn’t stop herself. She had fallen in love, and there was no denying it. But no doubt, she would be whisked away again, and another few centuries would pass, and she would have to learn from Caspian’s great-great-great grandson all about the beautiful woman he had taken for his queen.

And so, she let herself be selfish, just for a little while, to take what small time with him she could.

That was what brought her here, to his chambers, sitting at the window with him.

Their hands were intertwined, their fingers laced, as they talked.

“What if I’m not what Aslan expects of me?” Caspian asked softly. “Or… if I cannot live up to my father?”

“You’ll be wonderful, Caspian,” she said softly.

He smiled at her, and her heart fluttered.

“I… I might feel better about being King if I had a wise Queen at my side…” he said, looking at her with such emotion behind his eyes.

But at that, her happiness turned. He must have seen it in her face, because his hand came to caress her cheek.

“What is wrong? Why do you pull away from me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Surely, now that your vision has passed…”

(Y/N) shook her head, her heart heavy. “I wish that were so, Caspian… but I had another vision.” The panic in his eyes prompted her to hurriedly continue, “Nothing like the last time. But… I saw… _you_. At your wedding. I… you can’t be mine, Caspian. You’re meant for another.”

He held her hand a little tighter, his face falling. She squeezed his hand and smiled sadly.

“Let’s not worry about that today,” she said softly before he could search for a rebuttal. “The ceremony will begin soon… We have this moment, just us.”

Caspian nodded slowly, deep in thought as the two of them stood. What happened when they reached the open doorway, however, was quite the surprise.

He leaned close quite suddenly and pulled (Y/N) into a dizzying kiss. Her knees felt weak, and she was certain that his hand at her waist was the only reason she remained standing.

A tentative knock against the door frame interrupted them.

“My Prince, the ceremony is about to begin,” called a Faun, looking quite embarrassed to have come across them in such a state.

The two parted, embarrassed, (Y/N) feeling as though Caspian had stolen all the breath from her lungs, though not in a bad way.

“Shall we?” Caspian asked softly.

(Y/N) could only nod. He offered his arm to her, and she accepted. No matter what may happen, the coronation was a cause for great celebration.

* * *

When the last echo of _Long live King Caspian!_ had faded into jubilant cheers, all of the Kings and Queens rode in a procession through the streets of the lower town. Caspian rode alongside Aslan, with the other five close behind. Glenstorm and a few of the other Centaurs and some Talking Horses walked with them.

The people lined the streets and ran before them, scattering petals and cheering for their King.

All was well.

The next few weeks mostly consisted of Aslan and the five Golden Age rulers helping Caspian to settle into his role as King. They helped him to select more trustworthy Council members, filling in some of the empty seats with Narnians. There were laws to be written, and some to be unwritten, but Caspian was a quick learner.

(Y/N) and Caspian did not speak of her vision again. Now, they shared only lingering glances, rather than touches and stolen kisses. The knowledge of his future was an invisible barrier between them.

When Aslan instructed that all the people be gathered the next day, (Y/N) had the sinking feeling she knew what was in store. That night, the stars confirmed: Return.

The Kings and Queens of Old were to be sent home, to allow Caspian the chance to come into his own.

It hurt, but she knew it was necessary.

The people assembled by the cliffside in the lower town.

“Narnia belongs to the Narnians, just as it does to man,” Caspian said, confident before his people. “Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to. But, for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers.”

“It’s been generations since we left Telmar,” said a man.

“We’re not referring to Telmar,” Aslan clarified. “Your ancestors were seafaring brigands, pirates run aground on an island. There, they found a cave, a rare chasm, that brought them here from their world. The same world as _our_ Kings and Queens.” He turned his gaze upon the five, who stood to one side. “It is to that island I can return you. It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start.”

There were murmurs throughout the crowd, but almost immediately, a voice spoke.

“I will go,” said the former General Glozelle. “I will accept the offer.”

The crows parted, allowing him a path to the front.

Caspian bowed to him, no doubt remembering how the man had spared his life.

“So will we,” spoke a voice.

The Lady Prunaprismia, and her father, with the child of Miraz.

Caspian seemed surprised, and even somewhat saddened. They were, after all, the last of his family.

“Because you have spoken first,” said Aslan, “Your future in that world shall be good.”

He breathed over them, reminding (Y/N) of how he had breathed life back into the Witch’s cursed statues. Then, he turned his gaze to the tree at the edge of the cliff.

It began to twist, slowly, drawing gasps from the crowd, until it gradually formed an archway.

The three Telmarines walked through the archway… and vanished.

The crowd gasped, and murmurs of distrust rippled through the humans.

“How do we know he is not leading us to our death?” one man demanded.

“Sire,” said Reepicheep, “If my example can be of any service, I will take eleven mice through with no delay.”

But Aslan said nothing. He merely looked to the Kings and Queens, and (Y/N) knew exactly what he meant by it.

“We’ll go,” Peter said solemnly.

“We will?” Edmund asked in confusion.

Peter gave each of them a sad look, especially (Y/N).

“Come on… our time’s up.” He walked over to Caspian. “After all, we’re not really needed here anymore.” He took Rhindon from his belt, and offered it to Caspian, who accepted it.

“I will look after it until you return,” he promised.

“I’m afraid that’s just it…” spoke Susan. “We’re not coming back.”

Caspian’s gaze found (Y/N)’s, the heartbreak clear in his eyes.

“We’re not?” Lucy asked in a small voice.

“You three are,” Peter said, coming back over to them. He glanced at Aslan. “At least… I _think_ He means you three.”

This was somehow worse than what (Y/N) had been expecting. Narnia had been the only place where she and her family could be together. It brought them together through time. Even if she came back, Peter and Susan wouldn’t be there…

“But why?” Lucy asked, looking to Aslan with pleading eyes. “Did they do something wrong?”

“Quite the opposite, dear one,” Aslan replied. “But all things have their time. Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it’s time for them to live in their own.”

“It’s alright, Lu.” Peter took Lucy’s hands in his. “It’s not how I thought it would be, but it’s alright. One day, you’ll see too.”

(Y/N) and Susan quickly hugged each other, sniffling. It was devastating. They held each other tightly, for what felt like an age, until at last they shared a whispered goodbye.

Then, (Y/N) faced Peter, and though he gave a smile for her benefit, she could see the sadness beneath. Tears welled in her eyes.

“This… this is goodbye?” she whispered. “Forever?”

“I don’t know about forever,” Peter said softly. “But for now… yes.” He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, his own filling with tears. “I love you, (Y/N). So very much… I’m sorry for how things went… But I wouldn’t trade our time together for any world. Don’t lose hope, (Y/N). You’ll be just fine.”

(Y/N) threw her arms around him and held him so tightly, she feared it probably hurt, but he held her just as tightly. She couldn’t stop her tears.

At long last, they parted.

Peter gently dried her tears, the way he used to when she was just a young girl at the beginning of the Golden Age, then he looked at the others. “Come on…”

“Wait,” said (Y/N), stopping them. “I… I can’t bear to watch you go. Let… let me leave first. Then it’ll be like… Just a temporary parting.”

“You’re leaving?” Caspian asked, his voice soft.

She turned to face him, taking his hands in hers. Though she felt the eyes of all Narnians and Telmarines upon her, she found she didn’t care.

“Caspian… I’m sorry,” (Y/N) said. “But I can’t stay… It’s written in the stars, I’m meant to return. And even if it was my own choice… I’ve got my grandmother to think of. I can’t leave her alone.”

He nodded once. “I… I understand.” He held her hands closer to his heart. “Even if you do not return in my lifetime, and I must choose to take a different queen for the good of the people, it shall not be fair to her, for you and you alone shall have my heart, until the end of Time. I know that I can never love another as much as I love you.”

If this was to be the last time she saw him, (Y/N) did not intend to let that go to waste. She pulled him close and kissed him, in front of Aslan, her family, and nearly every citizen of Narnia. It seemed to last an eternity, just the two of them. And when the kiss was over, Caspian wrapped her in his arms, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, as if memorizing the feeling of her in his embrace would keep her from vanishing through that portal.

Finally, they let go of each other, and (Y/N) walked over to the tree. She turned to give one last smile to her family, especially to Peter and Susan.

“We’ll see each other again,” she said to the two of them. “When the stars rain down from the heavens at the end of Time.”

With one long, last look at them, and to Caspian, she turned, steeled herself with a breath, and walked through the archway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone!


	17. Once a King or Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter got pretty weird. A little bit experimental. Most definitely pushing it on realism lmao, but this is a story about a magical world, so maybe I can get a pass... Anyways, reactions to this chapter will be greatly appreciated!

The years passed more easily this time, for the most part. (Y/N) knew in her heart that she would return to Narnia, and that knowledge sustained her, through the loneliness and separation.

Of course, that was not to say that those years were without hardship of any kind. But they were in no way comparable to the desolate hopelessness that had filled the last four years.

She finished school, and tried to search for a place to apply for secondary education, though nothing felt right, and so she stayed at home, with her grandmother.

Through it all, her grandmother had been a constant in her life, especially upon that tumultuous first return that had devastated her so. Her grandmother gave her hope for her next return, and encouraged her to continue drawing her memories of Narnia.

(Y/N) drew the How, and the Telmarine castle. She drew the river spirit, and Aslan. She drew Glenstorm’s solemn face, and Peter, mid-duel with Miraz. And, more than once, she sketched Caspian. The details of his face would never leave her, that much she knew.

He lived in her heart, and on the pages of her diary, his face furrowed in concentration, bright with a smile, gentle with love…

With every drawing, she detailed all that she could remember about Narnia, the events, the people, how she had felt in each moment. It was her way of committing all of that world to memory.

Near the end of the third year, her grandmother’s health began to fail. Old age, and nothing more, but it still brought grief to (Y/N)’s heart.

Here, sitting at her bedside in the hospital, it didn’t quite feel real.

“Such a sad face,” her grandmother murmured. “All things have their time, my dear, you know that… My time has come, that’s all.”

(Y/N) laughed softly, sniffling despite herself. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less… It seems as though I’m always losing everyone I love. I’m so tired of saying goodbye…”

“Oh, darling, this isn’t goodbye, not really…” she said with a weary smile. “We’ll see each other again. When the stars rain down from the heavens, at the end of Time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and she stared at her grandmother in surprise at the Narnian farewell. The _exact_ farewell she had given to Peter and Susan.

“How do you--”

Granny gave her a knowing smile that bordered on mischievous.

“Who am I, (Y/N)?”

Confused, she slowly answered, worrying that perhaps her grandmother’s mind was leaving her first.

“You’re… You’re my grandmother… I--”

“My name, (Y/N)… People seldom think of their grandparents by their names, I know, but you know what it is.”

“Of course…” (Y/N) said slowly, still not quite understanding. “Your name is Susan (L/N)…”

Granny’s eyes glimmered, and it was then that (Y/N) realized.

“Su… _my_ Susan?”

It seemed impossible.

“When your father… my son… introduced his father and I to your mother, I was struck by how familiar she seemed. You look just like her, you see.” She chuckled softly. “I could swear you didn’t inherit a thing from me.” Then, she sighed. “I had let myself forget Narnia, you see, prioritizing foolish things over the truth, until you returned from that first time. That was when it all came back to me…”

“That was why you believed me,” (Y/N) realized. Her head was spinning with the revelation. “And why you had the same wardrobe.”

Gran-- _Susan_ nodded. “Professor Diggory left it to me…”

(Y/N) tried to right herself, but her thoughts were reeling.

“But-- Why have I never met the others? Surely they…”

Susan sadly shook her head.

“No. Long before I ever even married, I’m afraid… I lost them, in an accident.”

For a moment, (Y/N) had entertained the idea of seeing Peter again, seeing him one last time in this life, but her heart crashed at Susan’s words.

“Why have you waited until now to tell me?” she asked softly. “Now, when we’re about to say goodbye again…”

“You’re not the only one Aslan speaks to, Seer or not,” Susan said. “When you returned that first time, He spoke to me in a dream. Not like the dreams you have, of course… It was just… Him. He’s not a tame lion, you know… He has His reasons.”

“I suppose it would have been strange to know before,” (Y/N) murmured, clutching Susan’s hand. She laughed softly. “Look at that… We really are family.”

“We always would have been, blood or not,” replied Susan, just before a sudden shortness of breath overwhelmed her, and the reality of the circumstances set in once more.

(Y/N) tried to hold back her tears.

“What am I going to do without you?”

“You’ll be just fine, (Y/N),” Susan whispered weakly. “I have the strangest feeling you’ll be going back to Narnia soon… When you see Aslan, you’ll know what to do.” She paused to catch her breath, her words growing softer. “I can only hope He’ll deem me worthy to go to His Country… All those years I spent, adamant that Narnia was a fairytale, thinking that dismissing it as something so childish would make me more grown up… Don’t get me wrong, (Y/N), there is nothing wrong with wanting to grow up, or wanting to make a life in this world… But I did so at the cost of everything Aslan taught me in Narnia.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop her tears now, though she offered what she hoped was a comforting smile.

“I know Aslan will be there at the Great Wave to greet you personally. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia. Even if you did get a little lost along the way. You are Susan the Gentle, High Queen of Narnia.”

Susan gave her a peaceful smile.

“Thank you, (Y/N)… And when you come to Aslan’s country one day, I swear to you that if I am there, I will be waiting there for you, to be the first to welcome you home.”

She gave a contented sigh, and for a moment, (Y/N) could see the young Queen she had known in Narnia in her face once more.

“Goodbye, Susan… Tell the others that I miss them… that I love them more than words can say,” (Y/N) said, her voice breaking.

And the Gentle Queen closed her eyes for the last time in this life.

* * *

“I’d like to talk about your grandmother, (Y/N). Losing someone is always hard… especially someone you were so close with.”

(Y/N) picked at a loose thread on the corner of the pillow she held in her lap. The cloth couch was terribly uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be here.

“I’ve lost people before,” she said, thinking of Tumnus, of the Beavers, of Haveron… of Peter. Even Caspian, to some degree.

“Of course, of course,” said the doctor. The grief counselor. “Your father and mother, when you were young.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) said flatly, not bothering to correct her. “I’m just tired of losing people. And, I mean, we said goodbye, but…” _But finding out that my grandmother was one of the people I loved as a sibling, the people I only ever got to see in a magical land, was a bit of a shock, though somehow it made things easier, and I’m completely fine now, so I’d like to go…_

“That’s completely understandable. You’ve still experienced a tremendous loss, and it’s perfectly normal to let yourself feel that.”

“I’m fine with it. I am. I… I know I’m going to see her again. It’s just that I’m alone. For now.”

The doctor nodded, making a note on her clipboard.

“I see… So your faith is important to you, then?”

(Y/N) hesitated. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Spirituality, perhaps?”

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Do you think you could try? I just want to understand how best to help you. Sometimes, the death of a loved one can bring up fears of a person’s own mortality, but if you have an afterlife you’d like to discuss, I think that might help.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop a dismissive laugh.

“I’m not scared to die. I’ve been there, to the Great Wave. I had the chance to move on to Aslan’s Country. But I chose to stand and fight.”

The doctor wrote something in her notes, and (Y/N) mentally berated herself for oversharing. She looked at the clock.

“Well it looks like we’re out of time,” she said, standing quickly. “I’ll just go, then. One session, right? That was the requirement…”

Something, something, legal requirement. She may or may not have gone home and thrown a few things around the house after the funeral out of some previously unrecognized anger about the whole situation. The neighbors may or may not have filed a report, ergo… something, something, mental health evaluation requirement. She hadn’t paid much attention other than to know she would rather not, but she’d ultimately had no choice.

But the doctor tilted her head thoughtfully. “Actually… I’d like to see you back next week. I think we could make some real progress.”

“I’ll think about it,” (Y/N) said, lying through her teeth. She grabbed her bag and walked out the door.

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so eager to escape that little office, she might have noticed that her diary had slipped out of the bag and been left behind.

* * *

“Thank you for coming back, (Y/N),” said that doctor with a smile that seemed far too false.

(Y/N) still couldn’t recall her name. She glanced yet again at the placard on the desk.

Doctor Carmen. She motioned for (Y/N) so sit on that couch, but she stubbornly remained standing.

“I’m not here for a session,” she said shortly. “You called about my diary?” For some reason, she felt very afraid.

“Yes,” said Doctor Carmen. “I have to say, I’m very concerned about the contents.”

(Y/N)’s blood ran cold.

“You… you looked through it? You have no right…”

Doctor Carmen tried to speak soothingly, but failed spectacularly.

“It opened when it fell out of your bag. But, as your therapist, when I saw what was inside, I felt an ethical obligation to at least talk about this with you.”

(Y/N) laughed dryly. “I’m not sure you know what ethical means. And you’re technically not my therapist, I only…”

But she trailed off as the doctor slowly produced the diary, holding it open to show (Y/N) one particular page.

One of the drawings. Her vision of her death.

“I’m legally obligated to report if I have reason to believe that you may be a danger to yourself or others. This drawing… (Y/N), fantasizing about your own death is not healthy. And, to be frank with you, it gives me great cause for concern.”

But she didn’t stop there. She turned to another page. Another drawing.

The death of Miraz.

“And obsessing over the deaths of others…”

Before she could stop herself, (Y/N) snapped, “Miraz was a coward and a tyrant, and a usurper to boot. Narnia is better off without him.”

“Miraz? Who is Miraz? Did you kill him?”

Between wondering how this woman even got a license, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to hold back her words.

“No. I remember the faces of every soldier I ever killed. I don’t enjoy it.”

It was certainly the wrong thing to say. Doctor Carmen sighed.

“I’m afraid I have no choice but to recommend that you be committed, for your own safety and the safety of others.”

“You have no right!”

(Y/N) knew she was nearly shouting now, but she didn’t even care.

“This isn’t a decision I take lightly, (Y/N), believe me.”

“Give me my diary.” Now, her voice sounded eerily calm. Her skin crawled with a strange sensation, like lightning.

“(Y/N), please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

This wasn’t Narnia. She knew she couldn’t just fight her way out. Now was the time to be clever, clever and resilient.

She feigned a sigh, letting her shoulders slump, casting her face towards the ground, though her gaze subtly catalogued each and every exit.

Second floor office, a window with no screen…

“I… I understand…” she whispered, trying to sound small and defeated. “Please… Can I just have my diary? I’ll go along… I just… I need it. Please…”

Doctor Carmen nodded.

“I’m glad you understand.”

She held out the diary, watching (Y/N) cautiously, as if expecting something drastic. (Y/N) had no doubt there were medical officials standing by. If they believed her to be violent, they wouldn’t simply let her alone.

Slowly, keeping herself as meek as possible, (Y/N) took the diary. She stood still for just one moment, and when the doctor turned to call whoever was to escort her, she darted for the window.

Though she didn’t possess the strength she had trained to in Narnia, she felt a fire in her gut, as if she were there in spirit.

In one swift motion, she leapt over the desk, unlatched the window, and threw it open. She had survived much higher jumps than that in Narnia, but that had been in Narnia, where she had been trained for it. But there was no time for hesitation now, as she heard the doctor shouting behind her.

And so, she leapt.

The impact hurt, but nothing felt broken.

(Y/N) rolled to her feet, and took off running, as fast as she could, desperately praying that Aslan would choose this exact moment to sweep her away, back to Narnia. She hadn’t dreamed this time, but that prickling in her skin had felt an awful lot like magic.

She ran, through the city, down the streets, all the way home. Without her grandmother, without Susan, there was nothing of real importance there, but some money might be needed to get as far away as possible.

Quickly, through the house, she grabbed whatever she could carry and shoved it into her messenger bag. This would be the first place those officials would look for her, and if that Doctor Carmen thought she had just admitted to killing someone… There might be law enforcement involved. She took up a couple of photos she had found in Susan’s things. One, of the four Pevensies as she had known them, together and smiling. Another, of her parents.

The wardrobe, unfortunately, would never be able to be transported. But all the magic had gone from it anyways…

Far too soon, a heavy knock sounded at the door. (Y/N) had the most unpleasant feeling she knew exactly who it was.

What to do, what to do?

She realized she had left her bag on Susan’s bed, and ran to get it.

The knocking grew louder.

(Y/N) looked around the room wildly until something drew her gaze.

A painting hung on the wall, of a ship on the seas. It seemed to call to her.

She had seen it hundreds of times, growing up, but now, it seemed almost alive, thrumming with magic.

“Aslan?” she whispered.

Just as she thought it was all over, with no way out, the door to the room slammed shut of its own accord. She heard the front door crash crash open. People called to her, trying to sound comforting, but their voices faded into the background.

A breeze came from nowhere, carrying with it the salty scent of the Eastern Sea… and a small trickle of water dripped from the corner of the painting.

All commotion in the background vanished. Water began to pour from the frame, filling the room.

(Y/N) grabbed the bag that held her most prized possessions and held it tightly by the strap as the water rose over her head. She swam with all her might, breaking the surface after what felt like an eternity.

And when the door to the bedroom opened, they found nothing but an empty room.

* * *

Caspian dove into the water without hesitation when one of the crew members yelled man overboard. He didn’t know how it was possible, so far from any land, but he certainly wasn’t about to let anyone sink beneath the waves when he had the ability to help.

One of the figures slipped under the waves, and he pulled them back up.

“It’s alright!” he called. “I’ve got you!”

“Caspian?” the young lady asked in surprise, and it was then that he realized who he had just rescued.

“Lucy!” he declared.

“Edmund!” she called the other swimmers. “It’s Caspian!”

Edmund stopped in his retreat, and looked back at them.

“It’s alright boys,” said one of the crewmen, “You’re safe now.”

“Are we in Narnia?” he asked.

“Yes, you’re in Narnia!” Caspian said with a laugh.

He looked around for (Y/N), but the third castaway was a young boy whom he did not recognize, who was yelling and splashing, and creating quite a fuss.

Caspian, thought somewhat disheartened by her absence, pulled Lucy over to the ship. The crew lowered a platform down to them and, two by two, hauled them from the sea. Towels were brought for them at once.

“That was thrilling!” Lucy said with a laugh.

Caspian put an arm around her, pulling her close. “How in the world did you end up here?”

“I have no idea,” she replied.

“Caspian!” Edmund called, and the king turned to greet him with a bright smile.

“Edmund!”

“It’s great to see you.”

“And great to see you.”

Lucy looked thoughtful. “Didn’t you call for us?”

Caspian shook his head. “No… Not this time.”

“Well,” said Edmund, “Whatever the case, I’m just glad to be here.”

“And I am glad to have you,” Caspian said. Then, after a slight pause, “Tell me, where is your sister? Did (Y/N) not arrive with you?”

Lucy sighed and shook her head. “No… but she neve does, really. We always seem to find her a little bit later. But if this is anything like the last time, she’ll have arrived at the same moment as us. Though, perhaps a different place…”

Just then, a scream came from that third figure from the water, and a rather wet Mouse landed at their feet.

“Reepicheep!” Lucy exclaimed.

“Oh!” said the Mouse. “Your Majesties!” He bowed.

“Hello Reep,” said Edmund happily. “What a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, sir! But first, what to do about this- this… _hysterical_ interloper…”

“That giant rat-thing just tried to claw my face off!” shouted the boy.

Reepicheep, looking indignant, replied, “I was merely trying to expel the water from your lungs, sir!”

The boy gasped in shock, and reeled back. “It talked! Did you see- Did anyone just hear that? It just talked!”

“He always talks,” one of the crewmen said, as though it were the mos obvious thing in the world. And of course, to Narnians, it was.

“Actually,” Caspian added jovially, “It’s getting him to shut up that’s the trick.”

“The moment there is nothing to be _said_ , Your Highness, I promise you, I will not say it,” Reepicheep said amongst the laughter.

The boy, however, took no notice of the laughter, and continued to shout. For the most part, Caspian and the crew found it amusing, though he couldn’t help but wonder why this boy had come to Narnia.

When he fainted at the sight of Tavros, Caspian shared a look with Edmund and Lucy. The two of them seemed largely exasperated, though not un used to this sort of thing.

“See to him, will you?” Caspian asked the Minotaur.

He turned and addressed the crew.

“Men!” he declared. “Behold our castaways! Edmund the Just, and Lucy the Valiant. High King, and Queen of Narnia.”

The crew knelt before them, and paid respects. Once that was said and done, Caspian brought Lucy and Edmund aside, leading them to his cabin.

“Now, Lucy,” he said, “I’m afraid we’ve no women aboard. The most I can offer you both is an extra set of my own clothes each.”

“We’ve made do with much less, back in the Golden Age,” Edmund reassured him.

Lucy nodded. “I don’t mind at all, it’s very kind of you.”

“And you must take my cabin,” Caspian insisted as well, as he handed each of them a set of dry clothes.

“Oh, are you certain?” she asked. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. “I can share quarters with the rest of the crew. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, I trust that we shall soon find your sister, and the two of you can share it then.”

Lucy gave a soft smile at the thought of reuniting with (Y/N).

“Very well…” she said. “Thank you kindly.”

Caspian nodded. “Then I shall leave you to change into something dry. Edmund, I shall show you to the crew’s quarters.” He paused. “I’m afraid my things would not fit the boy who came with you…”

Edmund snorted.

“Eustace probably wouldn’t accept them anyways.”

“Who is he, if I may ask?” Caspian inquired.

Lucy sighed. “He’s our cousin… And… as you may have noticed, he can be… difficult.”

“Difficult is rather kind, if you ask me,” said Edmund.

Caspian nodded. “Well, I shall offer nonetheless. And we shall do everything we can to help him adjust to Narnia.”

When Edmund and Lucy had both changed and settled in, Caspian took them to the small room where he kept the maps and relics.

“Aslan,” said Lucy fondly, gazing at the golden image of the Lion.

The walls of the room were painted with scenes, myths of the Golden Age, and images of great Narnian tales.

“Look… Susan’s bow and arrows.” Lucy walked over to them, amazed. “And (Y/N)’s…”

Caspian reached into a glass paned cupboard and withdrew a small box.

“Lucy,” he called softly, presenting it to her.

“My healing cordial,” she realized, “And dagger!” She reached out to them, but stopped herself. “May I?”

Caspian chuckled. “Of course, they’re yours.”

“Peter’s sword,” said Edmund, walking over to it.

“Yes,” said Caspian, following him. Their amazement at seeing their things brought great joy to his heart, and he thanked Aslan that he’d had the instinct to bring them along on the voyage. “I looked after it, as promised. Here, hold it if you wish.”

But Edmund refused with a chuckle. “No, no, it’s yours. Peter gave it to you.”

Caspian grinned, a sudden thought occurring.

“I did save this for you, though…”

He went to another glass cabinet and withdrew the odd, flameless torch that Edmund had left behind, tossing it to him.

Edmund caught it, and set it alight, blinking in surprise.

“I thought the battery would’ve run out by now,” he said.

Caspian chuckled. “No one has quite had a need to use it, really.”

Absently, his hand found (Y/N)’s compass, which had not left his belt since she had parted with him, that Fateful day.

Lucy, taking notice of the movement, gently touched his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“We’ll find her, Caspian.”

He smiled, but he knew there was a sadness to it.

“I can only hope that she will be as happy to see me as I am at the very thought of her…”

“Anyone with eyes knows that she loves you, Caspian,” Edmund laughed.

He let a silence linger, debating…

“She says I’m destined to marry another,” he admitted.

“What?”

He explained to them the vision she had told him of, though it pained him to relate, but Edmund frowned, looking troubled.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It doesn’t sound right. She’s never had a vision that wasn’t a dream. And if she didn’t consult the stars, she can’t really know for sure.”

“I think the only way to know is to ask Aslan,” Lucy said determinedly. “Whenever we next see Him… He’ll set the matter straight.”

Caspian gave them both a smile.

“Thank you Edmund, thank you Lucy. I shall take your words to heart.”

“But for now…” Edmund said, “Perhaps you might like to tell us more about this voyage we’ve stumbled upon…”

“Ah, yes,” said Caspian. “Welcome, my friends, to the _Dawn Treader_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to recap: To help keep things more inclusive, Red takes after her mother, who married Grandma Susan’s son! Let me know if there’s anything more I can do to help keep this story inclusive for readers <3
> 
> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	18. A Discovery at Narrowhaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loooooooong chapter. Lots of self-indulgent fluff ;) Also, I’m changing some of the canon dialogue, because as much as I enjoy VotD, it really doesn’t stick to canon very well sometimes lol

Caspian brought Captain Drinian to the chart room to help explain their journey to Edmund and Lucy. He couldn’t be certain why they had been brought here, but if it meant he had the chance to see (Y/N) again, he certainly didn’t intend to question it too thoroughly.

“Since you left us, the Giants of the North have surrendered unconditionally… Then we defeated the Calormen armies at the Great Desert.” He looked up from the map with a smile. “There is peace across all of Narnia.”

He couldn’t wait to tell (Y/N). Some small part of him wanted her to know, so very badly, for her to be pleased with his progress, impressed with his efforts.

“Peace?” Edmund asked. At least he was impressed.

“In just three years,” Caspian confirmed.

He wondered how much time had passed for her…

Quickly, he shook his head, trying to chase those thoughts away, at least for the moment. His excitement was in danger of becoming a distraction.

“And have you found yourself a Queen in those three years?” Lucy asked teasingly. “The answer had better be no…”

Caspian laughed.

“Fear not, Lucy,” he said. “I’ve not met that mystery woman of my supposed destiny.” Then, he sober slightly, sighing. “None presented to me have compared in the slightest to your sister. They pale at the very thought of her.”

“Hang on,” Edmund said, a thought occurring to him, “So if there are no wars to fight, and no one is in trouble, then why are we here?”

“It’s a good question,” replied Caspian. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“So where are we sailing to?”

“Before I took back the throne from my uncle, he tried to kill my father’s closest friends and most loyal supporters.”

Caspian turned to the wall behind him, where sketched portraits of the lords as they had last appeared hung upon the wall. Edmund and Lucy came around the table to stand beside him, looking at the drawings.

“The Seven Lords of Telmar. They fled to the Lone Islands… No one has heard from them since.”

“So you think something’s happened to them?” Edmund asked.

Caspian looked thoughtful. “Well if it has, it’s my duty to find out.”

“Perhaps we might find (Y/N) on the Lone Islands,” Lucy suggested. “But if not… What’s East of the Lone Islands?”

“Uncharted waters,” Drinian answered. “I pity the Resilient Queen, should she find herself that far East. Things you can barely imagine await there… Tales of sea serpents, and worse.”

“Sea serpents?” Edmund repeated incredulously.

“Alright, Captain,” Caspian said with a chuckle. “That’s enough of your tall tales.”

* * *

They sailed for another full day, and a half day. The Lone Islands came into sight close to sundown.

Caspian prayed with all his might that (Y/N) would be there. He didn’t think he could stand having to scour the sea for months on end to see her again.

“The Lone Islands,” Drinian said. “The port of Narrowhaven.”

Caspian studied the shores through a spyglass looking for any signs of… well, anything.

“Strange,” he remarked, handing the spyglass to Edmund. “Not a Narnian flag in sight.”

Edmund also took a look, lowering the spyglass with a frown when he came to the same conclusion.

“But the Lone Islands have always been Narnia’s,” he said.

“Seems suspicious,” Drininan commented.

“I say we prepare a landing party,” said Edmund. “Drinian?”

Drinian paused, glancing at Caspian.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the chain of command starts with king Caspian on this ship.”

“Right…”

“We’ll use longboats,” Caspian said with a nod, taking up Edmund’s suggestion. “Drinian, pick some men and come ashore.”

“Aye.”

And so, they headed towards the island, cautious, but optimistic.

* * *

Caspian had ordered the others to secure the island, whilst he, Lucy, and Edmund investigated the odd emptiness of the main city. Of course, this had meant that Eustace had come along as well. Not the most ideal situation, but he was their blood, and so Caspian, though exasperated, did his best to remain kind to the boy.

The three of them made their way towards a door, to a building that seemed promisingly ominous, when Eustace loudly called out, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, looks like nobody’s in, so do you think we should head back?”

Edmund gave a heavy sigh.

“Do you wanna come here and… guard… something?” he asked.

“Ah, yes!” Eustace said, racing over. “Good idea, cousin! Very, _erm_ , logical!”

Caspian paused at the door, then turned to Eustace. He pulled a knife from his belt and offered it to the boy, for protection.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” the boy muttered as the other three headed inside. “Don’t worry!”

None of them were worried.

They had entered what appeared to be an abandoned belltower… Statues of headless kings stood all around, and in the center, a table stood. They approached it, ignoring Eustace’s call of “I’m ready to go when you are!”

Edmund lit his flameless torch and shone its light over a book on the table.

“Who are all these people?” Lucy asked, looking over the writing.

“Why have they been crossed out?” Edmund pointed out.

Lucy traced the names, one by one. “It looks like some kind of… fee.”

Caspian looked over the ledger, at the most recent entry

_Name - Unknown. Age - 20. Sex - Female. Buyer - Lord Argoth. Crowns - 1000_

None of the other crown amounts went above 200, Caspian noted. Suddenly, it made sense.

“Slave traders,” he realized.

At that moment, chaos erupted. Assailants descended from the ceiling, and the three quickly drew their weapons. Caspian felled one with a bolt from the crossbow he carried, then smashed it over the head of another man and drew his sword.

The three fought hard and skillfully, until a scream rang out.

“Unless you want’o ‘ear this one squeal like a girl again… I’d say you should drop your weapons.”

A man slammed the door shut, dragging Eustace along with a knife to his throat.

The knife Caspian had given him.

“Like a girl--”

“Now!”

“Eustace,” Edmund growled disdainfully, as each of them set down their swords.

“Put ‘em in irons!”

The other men followed his orders.

“Get your hands off me!”

“Let’s take these two to the market,” said the man, gesturing to Eustace and Lucy. “Send those two to the dungeons.”

“Listen to me, you insolent fool, I am your king!” Caspian shouted. He normally didn’t flaunt his authority so, but it enraged him to see what had been happening in his lands without his knowledge. These men had been lining their pockets with the lives of others. 

Edmund struggled, and earned a strike across the face for his trouble.

“You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Actually,” came a voice from the shadows, “Someone else is going to pay… for all of you.”

* * *

Caspian spent the entirety of the night trying to kick down the bars of the cell, and even continued trying until well past dawn. He felt more powerless than he had in years, and it did not sit well with him. He had to help these people. He kicked at the bars again.

Beside him, Edmund finally woke.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Edmund as he sat up.

Caspian hauled off another kick.

“It’s hopeless,” called a voice from the shadows. “You’ll never get out.”

Edmund squinted into the darkness. “Who’s there?”

“Nobody… just a voice in my head.”

Slowly, the speaker came forth. When he saw Caspian, he paused.

“Lord Bern?” Caspian asked.

The old man frowned. “Perhaps once… but I am no longer deserving of that title.”

Caspian shared a look with Edmund.

“Is he one of the seven?”

Caspian nodded, and slowly moved into the light where the man could see him.

“Your face…” he said. “You remind me of a king I once loved well.”

“That man was my father,” said Caspian.

At once, Bern’s face twisted with grief.

“Oh my lord!” he cried, beginning to lay himself at Caspian’s feet. “Please forgive me!”

“No, please,” Caspian reassured, keeping him upright. “Please… There is nothing to forgive. You did what you could.”

“And yet I could not stop Miraz…”

“He has been stopped now,” Caspian said. “By the will of Aslan.”

Lord Bern seemed confused for a moment, but he nodded.

“Can you help us get out of here?” Edmund asked.

“I’m afraid I have not been successful in all my long years. But I shall tell you what I know of this place.”

“The slave traders,” Caspian said.

Lord Bern nodded.

“I can only hope (Y/N) didn’t come back to wind up here,” Edmund said suddenly, having just thought of it. “Who knows what they would have done to her.”

The thought struck a chill in Caspian’s heart.

“Who is this you speak of?” asked Lord Bern.

“Queen (Y/N) the Resilient,” Caspian explained. “Of Narnia.”

“Tell me, what does she look like?”

The Lord’s voice was urgent, and Caspian described her quickly.

“You’ve seen her?” he asked when a look of recognition passed over the older man’s face.

“They took her away just yesterday, moments before you arrived,” he said, pointing to the entrance to the cell. “They’d had to keep her here overnight and all yesterday, rather than with the others to be sold, because she killed one of the slave guards. They normally don’t send people like that to the auction, but apparently, they already had a private buyer lined up. They taunted her, saying she had fetched their highest price yet.”

_One thousand crowns. Female. Twenty. Lord Argoth. Unknown._

The notation in the ledger flashed through Caspian’s mind.

“We must get out of here immediately,” he said, looking at Edmund. “And we must find a Lord named Argoth.”

Edmund’s eyes lit with that same spark of realization. He had seen the ledger too.

“I shall do what I can…” said Lord Bern. “But first, there is something you must know…”

* * *

Since the slavers were likely to try to “break in” Caspian and Edmund before feeding them to the mist, there was a high likelihood that someone would come and retrieve them soon. And so, a plan was hatched. They would need to bide their time, and wait until the opportune moment to strike.

Sure enough, the guards soon came. They put the irons on all three men, and roughly shoved them out of the cell.

“Come on, move!” one of the guards growled, shoving Edmund. “Move!”

As they were led out into the open air, they could hear the sounds of the auction.

“Come on, someone make a bid!”

The voice that spoke next, however, was all too familiar.

“I’ll take them off your hands! I’ll take them _all_ off your hands!”

Caspian looked down into the square at the sound of Reepicheep’s voice.

“For Narnia!” went the cry, and everyone erupted into fighting.

While one of the guards became distracted by the commotion, Caspian whirled around and dealt a blow to one of the others, then shoved the first over the rampart. Edmund and Bern fended off one soldier between them, as another advanced on Caspian from behind with a sword.

Though he dodged every blow, he needed to get out of these manacles as soon as possible.

Edmund and Bern soon succeeded in wresting the keys away from the other guard, and unlocked themselves, then threw the keys to Caspian. He quickly got rid of the manacles on his own wrists, between trading blows with the guard.

Soon enough, the people of Narrowhaven came out of hiding to aid the Narnians in their fight. With their help, the tide quickly turned, and all of the slavers were put in chains, on their knees before Caspian.

“Which of you is Lord Argoth?” he demanded.

None of them volunteered, of course, but the others all began to stare at one man in particular, and Caspian knew that was his man. He strode over, much more calmly than he felt, and glared down at the so-called Lord.

“There was a woman,” Caspian said. “Twenty years of age, whom you… _bought_ -” he spat the word like a poison “-yesterday evening.”

Lord Argoth, a wiry, sinister man with the features of a weasel, sneered.

“I’ve bought many women in my time,” he spoke, and his voice was like a snake. “How am I to keep track of just one? Hm, is she special to you? If she belongs to the king, perhaps I got her at a bargain price…”

“Enough,” Caspian said sharply, barely restraining himself. “Where is she?”

The man was silent.

“By laws of Narnia, King Caspian and myself have every right to execute you,” spoke Edmund in a commanding tone, and Caspian could see that Golden Age ruler emerging. He grabbed the man by the collar. “He on behalf of the Queen, and I on behalf of my sister. Speak now, and we shall spare your life, sentenced merely to rot in the dungeons for life. But if we must find her on our own, then we shall exercise our right as kings.”

At his words, Lord Argoth looked very, _very_ afraid.

“Alright, alright,” he relented fearfully. “The girl’s at my place…”

Caspian did not need to threaten any further to draw the location out of the man. As soon as it had left his lips, however, he commanded for Reepicheep, Tavros, and Drinian to take care of the rest of the slavers.

Edmund shoved the Lord away, releasing his collar, and when he did, a small booklet fell from his tunic. He stooped to pick it up, then paused.

“Caspian.”

He showed Caspian a page of the book.

It had clearly been salvaged, only very narrowly saved from irreparable water damage, but on the page, clear as day, was a drawing of him.

Almost reverently, he took the diary from Edmund.

_My dearest Caspian,_

_I know you shall never read these words, penned in a world so far from your own, but still I write to you. To tell you… Oh, I don’t know. To tell you how not a day goes by that I do not think of you, or how I wish I could dream in this world, just to see your face. There is so much I wish to say to you, but my greatest fear is that upon my next return, I shall be met by your great-great-great-great grandson… Perhaps I am a fool for lingering in memory, but everything I do, every place I go, every thing that I see, it reminds me of you._

_Vision or not, if I return and you and I are reunited, then I shall beg Aslan, I shall trade everything and anything to change our fates. There is nothing that I would not give to be at your side._

“It’s hers,” said Caspian. The words stung his heart at the same moment that they gave him hope. But he could not bear to dwell on them for much longer.

He and Edmund took off running, not stopping until they reached the place that had been named.

Without hesitation, Caspian burst into the door.

And then, several very odd things happened in sequence. His mind registered a swift movement coming towards him, and he swiftly caught the movement in his hand. A wrist, attached to a hand which held a simple kitchen knife, and a set of familiar eyes, burning with a fire that soon extinguished when she realized who had come in the door.

“Caspian?”

“(Y/N)…”

It was quite obvious that she had been expecting the return of Lord Argoth, and not the arrival of her brother and Caspian. That much he gathered from her attack.

Without thinking Caspian pulled her close and kissed her.

(Y/N) dropped the knife and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Though she seemed surprised, she had barely hesitated to return his kiss.

Edmund suddenly gave an awkward cough, and it was at that moment Caspian took note of what (Y/N) was wearing.

It… was not her usually preferred attire, to say the least. The Queen was one for riding dresses, on occasion even trousers. Anything she could fight in. This…

It was not _un_ flattering, though perhaps flattering in all of the wrong ways. A dress in two pieces that left her midriff exposed (where his hand currently rested, he realized); a sleeveless bodice with a neckline that dipped farther than the Queen would ever choose for herself, and a skirt, slit up to the thigh at each hip. Clearly the vile Lord’s choice of attire for her.

Heat flushed Caspian’s face.

(Y/N) suddenly seemed embarrassed as well, and she parted from his embrace. When she saw Edmund, her face immediately brightened once more, and she threw her arms around him.

“Edmund! It’s so good to see you!”

Evidently, the brief captivity had not dampened her spirits in the least. She had a bright smile on her face.

“(Y/N)!” Edmund laughed, hugging her tightly. “We wondered where you’d wound up.”

She made a face.

“Suffice to say the Lone Islands are not what we remember.”

“We’ve put a stop to that now,” said Edmund. “There’ll be no more buying and selling of people under Caspian’s reign.”

“Indeed,” said Caspian, still overjoyed at her presence. “I think it might be wise to place Lord Bern in charge of this place.”

“Lord Bern?” (Y/N) asked.

“It’s a long story,” Caspian said. “But we have plenty of time now… Come, let’s get you to the ship.”

“I hope you’ve got some real clothes on board,” she laughed. “I’d be better suited in clothes from my own world than this thing.”

“I know Lucy will be happy to see you,” said Edmund. He put his arm around her protectively, shooting Caspian a look that seemed almost warning, in that sort of protective brother way.

“Wait,” (Y/N) said suddenly. “My bag…”

She vanished into the house for a moment, and just when the other two thought they might need to go after her, she returned with a bag.

“That toad had it locked in his office,” she said, though she grinned triumphantly. “Shall we go?”

With that, the three of them headed to rejoin the others, (Y/N) securely placed between Edmund and Caspian, protecting her from view since neither of them had a coat or cloak to give to her.

Caspian’s mind wandered to the night they had first met, when he had insisted on giving her his cloak.

“(Y/N)!” a voice shouted, and Lucy came running up to them. She flung herself at (Y/N), and the two of them shared a warm embrace.

“I’ve missed you so much,” (Y/N) said, still holding her after they parted. “How long has it been for you?”

“About three years,” said Lucy. “Much longer this time, for us. What about you?”

“Three years for me as well,” (Y/N) said, looking relieved. Then, she looked up at Caspian. “How much time has passed for you, Caspian?”

He smiled. “It appears the same number of years has passed for all of us, then,” he said.

(Y/N) seemed pleased by that.

“Let’s see then,” she said, “That makes us fourteen, seventeen, twenty, and twenty-two, respectively.” She looked between Edmund and Lucy thoughtfully. “You’re nearing the end of the war, then…”

“Really?” asked Edmund. “Well, that’s good to hear. It’ll be a relief to finally have the family all together again.”

The now reunited Kings and Queens headed together towards the longboats to return to the ship. They were joined by the captain and the crew members who had come ashore.

(Y/N), Caspian noticed, looked around at the unfamiliar faces.

“Your Majesty!” came a shout, and a man ran up to them. “Your Majesty!”

Caspian and Edmund instinctively grabbed for their swords, both of them on edge at only having just recovered (Y/N). They weren’t about to lose her any time soon, and so, the perceived threat had them on high alert.

Drinian took ahold of the man, keeping him back from the Kings and Queens.

“My wife was taken just this morning!” the man said desperately. A young girl ran up behind him, calling for her father.

“It’s alright, Drinian,” Caspian said, and the Captain released the man.

“I beg of you,” he said, moving closer in his entreat. “Take me with you.”

“Gael!” a woman called the girl, still clinging to her father’s arm.

Caspian put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I want to come with you!” the girl said.

But the man shook his head. “No, Gael, stay with your aunt.” He looked to Caspian once more. “I’m a fine sailor. Been on the seas my whole life.”

Caspian thought of what he would do if it had been (Y/N), taken by the mist.

“Of course,” he told the man. “You must.”

The man thanked him profusely, then fell behind to say goodbye to his daughter.

“His wife was taken?” (Y/N) asked softly. “What happened?”

“There is a green mist,” Caspian explained as they walked down the rampart towards the longboats, “Lord Bern explained it to us, but there is a darkness creeping into the land. These corrupt lords have been sacrificing their citizens to it.”

Before (Y/N) could reply, Lord Bern’s voice rang out over the crowd.

“My King! My King!” He held a sword out to Caspian, and the four royals went over to him. “This was given to me by your father. I hid it safely in a cave, all these years.”

“That’s an old Narnian sword,” Edmund recognized.

“It’s from just after your Golden Age,” said Bern. “There are seven such swords. Legend says the Narnians believed they were gifts from Aslan to protect Narnia. They were plundered from Cair Paravel when our forefathers attacked and destroyed it.” He looked to Caspian. “Your father, as a sign of good faith, bestowed them upon us seven, gifting us these relics of conquest for the loyalty that we showed him. Here, take it… and may it protect you.”

Caspian reached out and accepted the sword, and the people cheered.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said. “And we shall find your lost citizens.”

Then, he turned, and held the sword out to Edmund.

“Edmund…”

The other King smiled, and accepted it.

With that, the crew members of the _Dawn Treader_ loaded what supplies the people had gifted to them for the journey, and set off back for the ship.

Once on board, Caspian retrieved another set of his clothes for (Y/N) to wear.

Lucy was off somewhere, conversing with Reepicheep and Edmund, and so, Caspian hoped he might get a moment alone with (Y/N).

He knocked at the cabin door, and it soon opened to reveal her face. Her eyes gained a sudden spark when she saw him there, and a smile brightened her expression. She had changed by now, Caspian noticed, and seeing her in his things pleased him more than he cared to admit.

“Caspian,” she said.

“May I come in?”

“Of course. It is your cabin, after all.”

She stepped aside to let him in, and he chuckled, closing the door behind himself.

“Not at this moment,” he said. “It is yours and Lucy’s for as long as you may need it.”

“Please, sit,” (Y/N) said, motioning to the small table by the window. The lamps had been lit, providing much-needed light with the waning presence of the setting sun.

The two of them took seats close to each other, rather than across. Upon the table, her bag sat, the contents strewn about. One item drew Caspian’s eye: what looked to be a miniature portrait on parchment, of Peter, Susan, Lucy, and Edmund.

(Y/N) followed his gaze.

“Oh…” she murmured, hastily putting it back in the bag. Then, she sighed. “Everything I have in any world is in that bag… Except my diary. I think that man must have taken it.”

At that moment, Caspian recalled what he had acquired earlier.

“Here,” he said, drawing the diary from his belt. “We found it on him…”

(Y/N) and took it from him, almost reverently, then laughed.

“Well, it’s really been a rollercoaster of emotion with this thing. Nearly lost it to water damage, then managed to save it, only for that pig to take it away.”

Caspian paused at the foreign word.

“Roller… coaster?”

She paused, then laughed at the sound of that word on his tongue.

“Sorry, it’s… It’s this thing from my world. Normally, the magic of Narnia kicks in by now and puts my brain in _Queen (Y/N)_ mode, but there’s not been anything normal about this time.”

Caspian didn’t quite understand some of the terms she used, but he gathered enough to put the pieces together.

“Different… How?” he asked.

(Y/N) bit her lip, looking thoughtful.

“I didn’t dream the night before I was brought back,” she said. “I feel so strange, too… Maybe it’s just to do with what S…”

She trailed off, looking at him hesitantly. Neither of them said anything, for she did not seem to want to elaborate, and Caspian did not wish to press her.

“I… I happened to read one of your pages.”

(Y/N) paused, watching him carefully. “Which page?”

“Your letter. To me. I didn’t read the whole thing.”

He didn’t know what he expected her reaction to be. Perhaps a heavy sigh, or anger, but no. Instead, he received a smile that could almost be called shy.

“I can’t deny what I feel, Caspian,” she said softly. Her words were less odd now, more Narnian, as if his mere presence were restoring that side of her. “No matter how selfish that may make me.”

Caspian allowed himself to feel a small spark of hope. He took her hand in his.

“Then… you mean to say…”

“I love you.”

All the air left his lungs, and his mind filled with a haze. He felt as though he floated on a cloud.

“Caspian?”

“Say it again,” he said, but it was more like a question, a whispered request.

(Y/N) sat forward, taking hold of his free hand with her own so that both their hands were entwined. They were so close, inches of space between them.

“I love you,” she whispered, and he could feel the air stir with the breath of her words, for how near they were.

He kissed her, more deliberately than his spur of the moment kiss earlier that day. Her hands came up to cup his face, and his arms found their way around her.

The rest of the world faded away, and all that Caspian knew was her.

She pulled away from him with a soft laugh.

“You’ve got that beard now,” she said, with what could only be described as a giggle.

Caspian laughed as well.

“Yes…”

(Y/N) absently ran her fingers through his hair, teasing, “And you’ve lost that Telmarine accent… You sound properly Narnian now.”

Caspian hummed in response.

“Most Telmarines are the same,” he said. “In living with the Creatures of Narnia, they have become more Narnian themselves.”

A comfortable silence lingered for a moment. Then, Caspian’s curiosity emerged.

“How did you come to Narnia this time? How did you end up…”

“Sold?”

Caspian nodded.

(Y/N) glanced at her satchel.

“My grandmother passed away,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly.

She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you… But it’s alright. I… I’m alright with it. Anyways… It’s difficult to explain why, but they were going to lock me away, so I ran. And as I was gathering things from my grandmother’s place, I felt magic in the air, and I was caught up in the Eastern Sea. I could see land close by, and I swam to shore. I did my best to save the more delicate items I had, and I went to try to find out which of the Lone Islands I had been brought to. That was when they ambushed me, and well, you know the rest.”

Caspian squeezed her hand.

“I’m glad we found you when we did,” he said. “Even if you _did_ nearly take my eye out…”

(Y/N) laughed. “But I didn’t, did I?”

“No, I suppose not--”

The door opened, cutting off his response.

“Oh, sorry,” said Lucy, taking note of their closeness. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“No, no,” said Caspian, reluctantly standing. “I ought to be going anyways. I need to consult with Drinian.” He smiled at (Y/N). “I shall see you in the morning… You should take some rest tonight, with all that has happened.”

“Good night, Caspian,” she said softly.

And he left the cabin, feeling happier than he had in a good long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	19. Diaries and Duels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Eustace!

(Y/N) strolled out onto the deck the next morning, feeling bright and refreshed. Things seemed to be getting back to normal now, thank goodness. It would be quite unfortunate if she were to suddenly start acting the fool, spouting indecipherable nonsense from her world. The Narnians would think she’d lost her head.

But everything felt alright now, some still, small voice within her set her at ease.

As she strode along, she happened to spot a young boy, dressed in clothes that were very obviously _not_ Narnian, and she recalled Edmund mentioning something about a cousin named Eustace who had been brought along as well. In fact, she did remember seeing him yesterday, on one of the longboats as they left Doorn. He sat tucked behind a barrel scribbling in a little notebook.

(Y/N) leaned against the barrel, looking down at him.

“You must be Eustace. I don’t believe we’ve met just yet.”

The boy jumped, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“You… you’re that woman they rescued yesterday.

(Y/N) laughed, startling him.

“What a way to be known to someone. I’m a Queen and a warrior, and the first thing you associate with me is that I have been rescued. Though, if you must know, I _am_ perfectly capable of rescuing myself. Caspian and Edmund just so happened to show up at the right moment.”

She gave him a smile, and he looked most perplexed by her.

“Why exactly are you so bloody happy?” he snapped, sounding more disgruntled than angry.

“What haven’t I to be happy about?” she replied. “I’m back in the world where I’m a well-respected Queen of a people who love me dearly, my foretold death has already passed and can bring me no more grief, and I’ve confessed my heart to the man I love. Now, if I may ask, what have you to be so miserable about?”

Though he seemed taken aback by her answer, he responded nonetheless.

“Why for starters, I’ve been kidnapped by- by the most unruly gaggle of roustabouts, dragged all over this infernal, foreign place against my will, and forced to abide with my cousins and that annoying mouse-thing!”

“Ah yes,” said (Y/N). “Reepicheep has wonderfully high-spirits, doesn’t he? As for all the rest, I daresay you’re looking at things rather backwards. Of course you’re not here by your own will, for the only way anyone _can_ get here is by the will of Aslan. And from what I hear, you’ve been given a place aboard this ship, an honor not afforded to many. She’s a beauty, this ship… Reminds me of the vessels we used to command on our visits to the Lone Islands in the Golden Age.”

Eustace made a noise of disinterest.

“Ah, so you’re the one my cousins won’t shut up about. _We simply must find her, I wonder where she is!_ Even before we got here, them with all their fairy tales about red ladies, and, and _wars_ and talking to stars and other such rubbish.”

“Just one Lady,” (Y/N) mused. “Several wars, and plenty of stars, though none of it rubbish.”

“What nonsense!” Eustace declared, though he studied her a bit more carefully now, as though he were putting the pieces together as to her true identity.

(Y/N) merely shrugged. “If you say so.”

Eustace paused, then…

“They said you died. You mentioned about… a foretold death.”

“I did.”

“Well that’s just- It’s ridiculous… Isn’t it?”

“If you think _that’s_ ridiculous, just wait til you hear all about how I’m from your world’s future.”

Eustace blinked.

“Now hang on a minute--”

“Yes, the future. Cross my heart.”

“No no,” Eustace said. “I meant… You said my world? You’re from there?”

“That’s right. Just in the future,” she said.

“They called you sister.”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Yes… Though in truth, I’m more than that.”

Her gaze wandered across the deck, to where Edmund and Lucy sat, talking with Reepicheep.

Eustace followed her gaze.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She looked back at him, wondering if she ought to say something…

“Susan was my grandmother,” she admitted after a long moment.

His surprise was evident.

“But- No, that’s highly illogical…”

(Y/N) laughed softly. “It’s true. We’re blood. Let’s see, I think that would make you and I… first cousins twice removed? Something like that. But I call Edmund and Lucy and the others siblings, so I suppose just _cousin_ would do, if you prefer. Much simpler that way, if I do say so myself.”

Eustace said nothing, and (Y/N) feared that she had perhaps overwhelmed him with all that she had said.

“I shall leave you to it, then,” she said, nodding at his little notebook. She stood upright, away from the barrel she had been leaning against, and turned to go.

Before she had gotten out of hearing range, she heard the faintest murmur of, “Yes… much simpler. Cousin.”

And she walked away with a smile on her face.

She heard her name called, and turned to see Caspian striding over from across the deck. When he came close enough, she leaned up to place a kiss upon his cheek. After their conversation last night, she had no hesitations about showing her affection for him, even publicly.

The smile that brightened his face was one that she had not seen in a long time.

“What can I do for you, My Lord?” she asked playfully.

Caspian laughed. “Well, My Lady, it occurred to me that I may have some items of yours in my possession which I have thus far forgotten to return. Your bow and your sword are in my cabin, and this…” He produced the compass from his belt. “Belongs to you.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“Last time, you refused it because of what you foresaw. Now, you’ve been brought here to aid me in my quest. Thus, your destiny is tied to mine, and the compass shall guide us just as well in your hands.”

“Sound reasoning,” she replied with a laugh. She accepted the compass from him and tied it to her own belt. “Now… if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to fetch my sword, so that we might have a duel.”

“A duel?” Caspian seemed surprised, but not resistant to the idea.

“Of course! You remember how I used to best you when I was training you at the How…”

Caspian laughed. “Oh I see… Right this way, then.”

He led her to the small chart room and began to rifle through the cabinets and drawers.

“Your sword, My Lady,” he said, presenting it to her with a smile.

(Y/N) gladly accepted it.

Then, Caspian hesitated. “I also brought this…”

He presented a small box to her and opened the lid. Inside, her red cloak sat, neatly folded.

“I wasn’t certain how you would feel about it…” he said, trailing off.

(Y/N) smiled softly. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset. I am the Red Lady, after all. Thank you, Caspian… Although I might elect to leave it behind if we are in need of stealth.”

Caspian chuckled and closed the box, replacing it in the cabinet.

“Of course,” he said. “Now, shall we--”

Just then, a great commotion could be heard from on deck. The two of them shared a glance, then rushed out of the room. They arrived just in time to see Reepicheep push Eustace, who was, for some reason, holding a sword, into a basket which tumbled over.

“Look!” said Lucy.

The young girl from Doorn, Rhince’s daughter, had been hiding in the basket which had tipped, spilling her out.

“Gael? What are you doing here?”

The poor man looked shocked at his daughter’s presence, but more worried than anything else. He quickly pulled her close, holding her protectively as the captain approached. He seemed nervous.

Drinian simply smiled.

“Looks like we have an extra crew member,” he said. He held an orange out to the girl, and she gingerly took it.

“Welcome aboard,” said Lucy, stepping forward.

“Your Majesty!” the girl said in awe, curtsying.

“Call me Lucy,” she said. “Come on…”

Lucy put her arm around the girl and led her towards the cabin. (Y/N) stopped them as they passed.

“She can take my side of the bed,” the Queen offered. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “But My Lady…”

(Y/N) offered her a warm smile. “Never you worry, my dear. I’ll be just fine.”

“We have ample room in the crew’s quarters,” Caspian offered suddenly, though he immediately looked as though he had spoken without thinking, judging by the pink flush of his cheeks. “That is to say, I could arrange for a private section for you, if you wish,” he said.

(Y/N) offered him a grateful smile in return. “Thank you, Caspian. That’s very kind of you.”

Lucy nodded and took Gael into the cabin to get her settled.

(Y/N) suddenly grinned. “Now, Drinian, don’t set the men back to work just yet. There’s to be another duel.”

The nearby crew instantly became intrigued.

“Is there, now?” said the captain, looking amused.

“Yes indeed,” Caspian said, producing Peter’s sword, Rhindon. “Between the Queen and myself.”

“Aye, sir…” Drinian said. Then, he raised his voice, calling to the whole crew, “Clear the deck! The King and Queen are preparing to duel!”

The crew scrambled back, quite a fair bit further than they had for Eustace and Reepicheep’s duel.

Caspian looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I ought to go and fetch my armor first…”

“Whatever for?” (Y/N) asked in confusion.

“Because you, my love, hit _hard_ ,” Caspian replied with a grin upon his face, only half teasing.

“Only with the flat of the blade!” (Y/N) protested.

“As if that doesn’t still leave bruises for weeks!” declared Edmund, taking Caspian’s side. “You once sprained Peter’s wrist, remember!”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Yes, well, he had it coming, being such a nuisance during Council that day. And besides, you’re speaking as if the rest of you never struck back just as hard!”

Edmund didn’t even have the grace to look sheepish, but he wisely said nothing in reply. Rather, he joined the crew in giving the two ample space.

“Shall we?” Caspian asked.

(Y/N) replied by lunging at him with her sword. Their blades met with a resounding _clang_ , and the crew cheered.

For the both of them, it brought back memories of sparring at the How.

_“You must learn to fight in the Narnian way. Then, during battle, you can change your fighting style, catch your opponent off guard. The more variants you know, the safer you will be. That’s why I suggest you learn from each type of Narnian how to fight. As for me… I shall teach you in the ways of the Old Narnians. And you shall teach the Narnians the Telmarine way of fighting, so that they know what to expect from their enemies.”_

Long days of overseeing training, of sparring together…

But neither of them allowed the memories to become a distraction.

Their duel traveled far, proving the crew wise to give them plenty of space. They covered much ground, circling the deck many times. The pair were well matched.

(Y/N) feinted right, but Caspian knew the move well and blocked her on the left. Trying a different strategy, she put all of her weight into the swing of her blade, using a tactic they both had learned from the Minotaurs, but which Caspian was not expecting from her at that moment.

He attempted to block her strike and was thrown off balance. (Y/N) swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the deck, his blade skittering out of reach. Before he could recover, she dropped the tip of her blade to rest at his throat.

Caspian looked at her with a most adoring smile, and laughed as the crew erupted in shouts of congratulations.

“Well fought, Caspian,” (Y/N) said with a grin. She switched her sword into her other hand and reached to help him up.

Caspian took hold of her hand, but rather than hauling himself up, he tugged her down with him. Her sword dropped from her relaxed grasp and clattered somewhere along the deck as she fell down onto his chest.

The crew began to laugh, and she couldn’t help but join them.

“Sneaky,” she murmured to Caspian.

“There,” he laughed, “Now we’re even.”

(Y/N) moved off of him and got to her feet. This time, he allowed her to help him up.

“Alright,” Drinian called to the crew, “Back to work!”

They all diligently obeyed, though for the rest of the day, not a moment went by that chatter of the tremendous duel ceased.

* * *

After a few days more of sailing, the lookout spotted a cluster of small islands in the distance. They slowly grew larger until the _Dawn Treader_ neared the shore around sundown.

Caspian, Edmund, Drinian, and (Y/N) stood at the helm, observing the island.

“It looks uninhabited,” said Caspian, peering through the spyglass. “But if the lords followed the mist East, they would have stopped here.”

“Could be a trap,” suggested Drinian.

Edmund looked thoughtful. “Or it could hold some answers.”

“We must search for any clues,” (Y/N) said, looking down at her compass. “It seems we have business here.”

Caspian glanced at her, then to the compass in her hand. He nodded.

“We’ll spend the night on shore. Scour the island in the morning.”

He handed the spyglass to Drinian.

“Aye, your Majesty,” said the captain.

They took a few men in the longboats to shore and set up camp on the beach. Night fell slowly, and most of the crew had already fallen asleep, but (Y/N) did not yet feel tired. Apparently, neither did Caspian.

He came over and sat beside her, in front of the fire.

“Might I ask what is on your mind, (Y/N)?” he murmured softly.

She gave him a small smile.

“Just… memories,” she said. With a soft sigh, she pulled her diary from her tunic and gently flipped through the pages.

“Anything you would care to speak with me about?”

(Y/N) paused for a moment, then slowly searched for one page in particular. She held the diary out to him and he carefully took it.

There, he saw himself, not as he had been when he was younger, when they had met, but as he was now, dressed in ceremonial garb and standing before a pair of thrones.

“Your vision?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I’ve been trying not to think of it,” she said, staring into the slowly dying fire. “But yet here I am…”

Caspian closed the diary and set it aside.

“(Y/N).”

She didn’t look at him.

He gently cupped her chin, and she turned her face towards him. He was surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears.

“(Y/N), my love…” he began gently.

“Caspian,” she whispered, stopping him. “I don’t want to spoil our time together with such abysmal thoughts…”

“The thought of it is eating away at your soul whether you wish it to or not, (Y/N). Avoiding the matter altogether is not the solution.”

“It’ll happen soon, I imagine,” she said. “You look now how you looked in the vision. It’s likely that we’ll meet her on this very voyage, and then you’ll fall in love with her… out of love with me… and when I have gone from Narnia for the last time, you shall ask her to sail home with you.”

Caspian’s heart ached at her words.

“It is you that I love, (Y/N),” he said firmly. “And nothing in either your world or this one could change that.”

They both were silent for a long moment.

“Will you not ask the stars?” Caspian asked.

(Y/N)’s gaze briefly flickered towards the heavens, but she seemed hesitant still, almost afraid.

“I fear what their answer may be,” she admitted.

Caspian brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Would it not be better to know than to linger in the pain of uncertainty?”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, as she leaned into the comfort of his touch.

“You’re right,” she whispered.

(Y/N) took a slow, deep breath, as if to steel herself, and slowly looked up to the night sky.

Caspian watched her whilst she studied the stars. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight, glassy with otherworldly focus. It gave her an ethereal beauty, and his mind wandered, picturing her out upon a balcony of Cair Paravel on some summer night in the Golden Age, speaking with her subjects above…

“They have nothing to say on the matter of my vision,” she said softly, still watching the constellations. “I almost expected that, though… It was a vision, not a dream. Everything about it was unusual.”

He held her hand in his, soothingly caressing her skin.

“Do they say anything else?”

She shook her head, finally turning her gaze to him once more. “It’s the mist, I think. It must be clouding my abilities. I still haven’t had a single dream, you know. Not one…”

“We shall find the answers,” Caspian assured her.

That seemed to give her some hope, for she smiled.

“I’m certain Aslan will speak to me soon…” she said. “But for now… We ought to at least try to get some sleep, if we’re to explore this place in the morning.”

Caspian nodded. “Goodnight, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Caspian.”

The two of them moved away from the fire, now naught but embers, off to each of their bedrolls.

Little did they or anyone else of the crew know, they were not alone on the island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	20. Ordinary Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are done and I am back! (Until next semester anyways lol)

Invisible shapes pressed heavy footprints deep into the sand, silently, slowly moving across the beach.

“ _Seems they’ve brought a pig!_ ” a voice whispered over the loud snorting noises coming from Eustace’s general direction.

“ _This one,_ ” came another whisper. “ _It’s female_.”

“ _So’s this one…_ ”

“ _And another, over here…_ ”

The book which Lucy had brought with her lifted into the air, seemingly of its own accord, the pages turned by invisible hands.

“ _This one reads…_ ”

Beside (Y/N), her diary, too, was suspended in midair.

“ _This one writes._ ”

“ _Let’s take them both!_ ”

Invisible hands covered the mouths of the two Queens, keeping them silent as they startled awake.

But not a soul stirred on the beach as they were carried away.

* * *

_Hoofbeats thundered into the clearing at the Dancing lawn. All of the Narnians instantly became alert, though, Caspian noticed that some relaxed at the sight of the horse, and he realized that this must be another Narnian._

_The Horse barreled towards him, stopping just short of trampling him. A rider dismounted, and though Caspian knew that he probably ought to be ready to defend himself from this unknown intruder, all logic had gone from his mind._

_The rider was a girl, just a bit younger than himself. Something about her felt oddly familiar… The way she carried herself reminded him of some noblewoman, but she was different from any noble he’d ever met._

_“Brontan!” Trufflehunter declared, “What are you doing here?”_

_“And with a human no less?” Nikabrik sneered. He had accepted Caspian, yes, but it was quite clear that he did not extend this same, reluctant allegiance to any other humans._

_The young woman seemed unnerved by the presence of the Dwarf. Certainly not frightened, but she had a curious look in her eye for just a moment._

_“Let me explain myself, on behalf of Brontan,” she said, and it was then that Caspian noticed the poor Horse was catching his breath, unable to answer his fellow Narnians’ questionings. “My friend needs rest and refreshment. We have ridden nonstop for the better part of two days.”_

_Trufflehunter and Nikabrik looked to him, which certainly was an odd feeling. Caspian nodded, and the Horse went off to graze._

_“Who are you?” he asked the young woman. “What are you doing here?”_

_“I should be asking that of you, Telmarine,” she replied shortly. “Why do the Narnian people look to an invader for leadership?”_

_That was the moment he fell in love, even if he did not yet realize it._

Caspian’s dreams had not been so easy as of late, but tonight, he found peace, as his mind allowed him to relive some of his fondest memories, of the time he’d had with (Y/N) those three years ago.

Like the first time they had duelled…

_“I am not so sure this is a good idea, my lady,” he told her._

_The Narnian Queen looked at him with a sharp gaze, and he feared she had mistaken his meaning._

_“Your skills are of great legend,” he rushed to explain, an embarrassed heat burning across his face. “I fear you shall be disappointed in my abilities.”_

_Her expression softened._

_“Caspian, this is not a matter of whether or not you are able to impress me,” she said, with a wisdom beyond her young years, “I need to know what you are capable of in order to know how best to train you. Do you understand?”_

_He could only nod._

He dreamt, also, of the moment he had realized he had fallen irrevocably in love with the Resilient Queen.

_When he asked where the Queen had disappeared to, Asterius informed him that she had graced to relieve the twilight sentry on the top ledge of the How. That was where Caspian found her, sitting against the wall. Her attention was focused on the treeline, and she absently twirled a dagger in her hand._

_Caspian thought he ought to clear his throat or make some other noise so as to alert her to his presence, but at just that moment, she spoke._

_“The stars are so alive… I missed that most of all.” She looked up at him with a smile. “Come and sit with me.”_

_He did._

_He sat just beside her. At the time, he didn’t know why his heart beat faster._

_She sighed contentedly and looked up at the sky._

_“Stars in my world are different, you see. They aren’t alive, they don’t have voices. They’re just… Things. Little lights, incomprehensibly far away… burning on with no sense. You can’t speak to those kinds of stars, you see. It’s quite lonely… Especially with no dreams. But it’s so wonderful to be back, to hear their voices again. Everything in Narnia is just so…_ alive _.”_

_Her words held so much life, Caspian couldn’t help but smile, and when she turned to him with a bright expression of her own, his heart fluttered most strangely._

_“I am most honored to have you here with me,” he said earnestly._

_“Please, Caspian,” she said, “The honor is mine, for you are a fine man, and an even greater leader.”_

_As she spoke, she touched his shoulder, and that was the moment he knew._

And the night she had broken his heart… Yes, it was a bitter recollection in some ways, but still, that had also been the first time they had shared a kiss. And so, it lingered in his dreams.

That night, he had gone when she asked, but in his dream, his mind showed him what he wished could have happened.

_He took her hand in his._

_“(Y/N),” he said, pleading, “Will you not tell me what you dreamt of?”_

_She didn’t respond, but she looked into his eyes, and he felt himself drawn in closer as she cupped his cheek._

_He leaned into her as well, and their lips met, and he knew true happiness, just for that moment._

_“You are destined for great things, Caspian,” she whispered to him. Her hand rested over his heart. “You’ll be a great king, remembered by all who come after…” Her voice broke. “You will wed a wonderful woman, and your kingdom will prosper for the grace of your Queen.”_

_“Why are you saying these things?” he asked. His chest had blossomed with warmth at her words, but it was now fading away to crackling shards of worry, like a frost._

_“It cannot be me at your side… no matter how I wish it to be so.”_

_“(Y/N)--”_

_She stopped him._

_“We’re from two different worlds, Caspian. Aslan would not allow that.”_

_“He did not tell you this.”_

_“Please, leave me,” she begged softly._

_“(Y/N)--”_

_“_ Please. _”_

_Silence._

And then, the dream replaced reality.

_He took one of her hands in both of his again, and clasped it to his heart._

_“I cannot leave you like this. Please… You owe me nothing, but for your own sake… I cannot let you be alone with such distress weighing upon you.”_

_“Caspian…” she whispered. “There are some things which you do not know…”_

_“Share your burdens with me, (Y/N), I beg of you.”_

_She touched his face with a delicate caress, as though she feared either one of them might shatter. The barriers which she had set in place when she begged him to go were fading now._

_“I have dreamt that I am to die, “ she admitted. “That is my Fate. If you let yourself love me… it can only end in heartbreak and loss.”_

_He held her tighter, closer._

_“Loving you could never be a loss… You have made your home in my heart, and nothing shall change that, (Y/N). Not even death. But I shall beg Aslan not to take you from me…”_

_Her brow creased in disbelief, but her eyes shone with affection._

_Though in reality he had gone, in his dreams, he stayed to comfort her, and he held her until dawn._

* * *

Lucy and (Y/N) struggled all the while they were carried, into the treeline and through the woods, to a sprawling lawn decorated with trimmed hedges. At long last, they were thrown to the ground. Lucy grabbed her dagger, but it was plucked from her hand just as quickly. When she tried to go to it, one of the creatures knocked her to the ground. (Y/N)’s sword and bow were still at the beach.

The two of them were at the mercy of these creatures. (Y/N) grabbed Lucy’s hand, and the two of them back away together.

“There is no escape!” growled a deep voice.

Other voices chimed in.

“Well put!”

“Scary!”

“Yeah!”

“What are you?” Lucy asked, looking round wildly.

“We are terrifying invisible beasts!” one of the voices said.

“If you could see us, you would be really intimidated!” said the deep voice.

“Invisible?” (Y/N) asked, a bewildered expression upon her face. “But you’re not invisible, I can see you plainly.”

Lucy looked at her strangely. “I can’t see anything…”

(Y/N) looked around them, frowning.

“I… I don’t understand. I can see them…”

Indeed, she could, and how strange they were to look at. They were quite small, and they each had only one leg which ended in a large foot. They were holding each other up to appear taller than they were, though (Y/N) wondered how they could see each other if they claimed to be invisible.

“This one’s a sorceress!” one of the voices cried. “She sees through the spell!”

A cacophony of voices began to overlap, all of them declaring how awful an idea it had been to bring her along, and arguing about what types of spells she might cast upon them.

“Enough!” (Y/N) declared, getting to her feet. “I’m not a sorceress, I’m a Seer. I imagine whatever is allowing me to see you is Aslan’s doing. Now, tell me why you have brought us to this place.”

“One of you,” said the deepest voice, whom (Y/N) had determined to be the leader. “One of you shall do what we want.”

“Yes you shall!”

“Very clear!”

“Well put!”

“Yeah!”

These things seemed to love to agree with each other.

Lucy also stood, emboldened by (Y/N)’s ability to see the creatures.

“And if we refuse?” she challenged.

“Then death!” declared the leader.

The other creatures began to chant.

“Death! Death! Death!”

“Well we wouldn’t be much use to you dead, now would we?”

The chanting abruptly stopped.

“I hadn’t thought of that…”

“No, you hadn’t…”

“Fair point.”

Another of the creatures piped up.

“Alright! Then we’ll just kill your friends!”

(Y/N) and Lucy exchanged a glance, each of them thinking of Edmund and Caspian and Gael and all the rest of the crew.

“What do you want with us?” (Y/N) asked.

“You will enter the house of…” One of the creatures shoved Lucy forward. “The Oppressor.”

Lucy scoffed indignantly at being pushed. “What house?”

“Is that mansion meant to be invisible too?” (Y/N) asked in surprise.

Just then, a door creaked open, and Lucy seemed to take notice of the house which (Y/N) had seen since they arrived.

(Y/N) moved to follow, but one of the creatures leapt into her path.

“Not you, Sorceress!”

“That’s right!” declared another. “We’ve got to make sure your little friend comes back!”

“And to keep an eye out for any of your magic tricks!”

(Y/N) sighed, nodding to Lucy. She figured it would be useless to try to convince these things that she was anything but a magic user.

“Go on, Lu… I’ll be alright.”

Lucy nodded and slowly stepped towards the house, examining it in awe. (Y/N) wondered just how much of it she could see.

“Upstairs,” the leader instructed, “You’ll find _The Book of Incantations_. Recite the spell that makes the Unseen Seen!”

“Well put, Chief! Well put!”

Lucy walked to either side of the doorway, still carefully looking at it.

“Well go on, we haven’t got all day!”

“Remember what’ll happen to your friends!”

“Starting with the Sorceress!”

“You’ve been warned!”

Lucy turned to face the creatures.

“Why don’t you do it yourselves?” she asked.

There was a long pause, then, the Chief admitted, “We can’t read.”

“Can’t write either, as a matter of fact…”

“Or add.”

“Yeah…”

(Y/N) sighed. “You could have simply told us that and _asked_ for our help…”

“Beware The Oppressor!” the Chief warned Lucy.

“He’s very oppressive!”

“ _What makes the Unseen Seen_! Got it?”

“Don’t forget!”

“Don’t forget that!”

Lucy walked into the house and the doors closed behind her. (Y/N) sighed and moved to sit down. She had a feeling this was going to be a long night, with only these chatty creatures for company.

* * *

Caspian awoke at dawn, feeling more rested than he had in weeks. He had been thinking over (Y/N)’s doubts while trying to fall asleep last night, and now, he knew just what to do. But, when he went to find (Y/N), to speak with her, her bedroll was empty.

And there were giant footprints all around in the sand.

He rushed over and shook Edmund awake, scanning the tree line.

“Ed, wake up,” he said urgently.

“Hm?”

“Wake up, look!”

Edmund took in the sight of the footprints.

“And (Y/N) is gone,” Caspian said.

“Where’s Lucy?” Edmund noticed. “Lucy? (Y/N)!”

“Everybody up!” Caspian commanded quietly.

At once, Drinian got the others on their feet.

“Get up! Get up, I say! The Queens are missing, no time to dilly dally!”

As rapidly as they could, the men pulled on their leather armors and grabbed their swords.

“This way!” Caspian said, following the footprints.

They led through the trees to a lawn, where it became more difficult to track them. The footprints had vanished, and it was at that moment Caspian wished he still had (Y/N)’s compass to lead him to her. All the men had their swords drawn and ready.

“Caspian!” Edmund called. “Lucy’s dagger!”

He went over to examine it, when out of nowhere, several spears impaled the ground just beside them.

“Stop right there or perish!” yelled a gravelly voice, and suddenly, Caspian’s sword was wrenched from his hands.

The crew were set upon by an invisible enemy. Many of them, including Caspian, were knocked to the ground.

“What sort of creatures are you?” he demanded, looking around at nothing.

“Big ones!” replied the voice. “With the head of a tiger and the body of a…”

“Different tiger!” chimed in another voice.

“Oh they’re no such thing,” came yet another voice, this one much more familiar.

(Y/N) stepped out from behind a hedge, swatting at something on her arm which no one else could see.

“Get off of me…” She paused. “Or I’ll cast a spell on you!”

The creatures began to mutter, something about a sorceress, and (Y/N) nodded, looking pleased.

“Right then,” she said, turning to the crew with a smile. “They’re just small creatures stacked on top of each other. Really, their only advantage is that they’re invisible.”

When she drew close enough, Caspian pulled her into an embrace.

“You’re alright,” he said in relief.

“Yes, I’m fine. They think I’m a sorceress because I can see through the spell, so they’re somewhat afraid of me.”

Edmund hugged her tightly too, the moment Caspian moved away.

“What about Lucy?”

“No no!” a voice interrupted, before (Y/N) could reply. “Don’t listen to the Sorceress! We are very large!”

“And dangerous!”

“Yeah, you don’t want to mess with us!”

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Or what?” Edmund asked, unimpressed.

“Or I’ll claw you to death!”

Just then, the air all around them shimmered and the creatures began to appear one by one, standing upon each other, just as (Y/N) had said.

But, it seemed that the creatures didn’t notice their own visibility, for they continued to boast about how fearsome they were.

“I’ll run my tusks right through you!”

“And I’ll gnash you with my teeth!”

“And I’ll bite you with my fangs! Grrrr!”

Edmund raised an eyebrow. “You mean… Squash us? With your fat bellies?”

The creatures, so caught up in their scheme, began to agree with him.

“Yes! Yes!”

“...Fat bellies?”

They looked around, then down at themselves.

“Tickle us with your toes, perhaps?” Caspian joined in.

It seemed as if their invisibility had been the only thing maintaining their balance, and the moment they could see themselves again, the creatures’ little stacks began to wobble and fall.

Edmund grabbed his sword again and leveled it at the Chief.

“What have you done with my sister, you little pipsqueak?” he demanded.

“They sent her into the mansion, Ed,” (Y/N) explained.

He gave her an odd look. “Mansion?”

“It’s invisible too,” she said.

“Oh, right, of course… silly me.”

The mansion also shimmered, and began to form in front of their eyes.

“You know, I’m really getting tired of you all leaving me behi--”

Eustace crashed into the clearing through the underbrush, instantly stopping short at the sight of the creatures stacked on top of each other.

“It’s the pig!” declared one of them.

“The pig’s come back!”

Eustace blinked.

“This place just gets weirder and weirder…”

(Y/N) waved him over.

“Eustace, there you are…” She fixed the crew with a look. “I know that Narnians are able to wake quite easily, but I’d beg a little more understanding from you all… It’s not an easy thing, to come from another world. If someone could think to wake him next time, it would be most appreciated.”

The younger boy looked sheepish for her scolding them on his behalf, but he made his way over to the Queen nevertheless.

The creatures, however, began to shriek and shout in fear, backing away towards where Eustace was coming from.

(Y/N) turned to search for the cause of their alarm and found, to her relief, Lucy, walking towards them. The man at her side seemed familiar…

“Your Majesties,” said the man, bowing to Edmund and Caspian, who bowed to him in return. He hadn’t noticed (Y/N) yet, as she had moved towards the crew when she had been speaking to them.

“Why… you’re not just a sorcerer,” she realized, stepping forward into view. “You were a star once, weren’t you? Coriakin…”

The man’s eyes widened when he saw her, and knelt before her.

“My Lady…” he said.

“Please,” she said, and he rose to his feet once more.

“I did not look to see the Lady of the Stars on my island,” said Coriakin. “But what you say is true. You knew my name in the Golden Age, but since then, I have committed a grievance against Aslan, and I retired from the Heavens. In penance, He has charged me to watch over this island and its inhabitants.”

“A grievance against Aslan?” Lucy asked.

Coriakin nodded. “Indeed, Your Majesty, though the nature of it is known only between Aslan and myself. I seek every day to pay for my past crimes.”

“That’s what he thinks!” declared the Chief. “Yet you have wronged us, magician!”

Coriakin strode towards them, and the creatures began to hop backwards, away from him.

“I have not wronged you, I made you invisible for your own protection.”

“Protection?”

“That’s oppressive!”

“Oppressor!”

“I have not oppressed you,” Coriakin said calmly.

“But you could’ve! If you wanted to!”

Coriakin reached into his robes and tossed some sort of dust at them.

“Begone,” he said simply.

“What was that?” Lucy asked him.

“Lint,” he replied, his eyes alight with amusement. “But don’t tell them.”

Eustace watched the creatures, retreating into the distance.

“What were those things?” he asked.

“Dufflepuds,” said Coriakin.

“Right, of course… Silly me.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Don’t worry, Eustace. None of the rest of us have ever encountered them either.”

They turned to follow Coriakin into the mansion, but Caspian pulled (Y/N) aside.

“Can we trust him?” he asked. “You knew him as a star… Has his crime changed his heart?”

(Y/N) watched Coriakin lead the others.

“I sense genuine repentance from him. No matter his crime, Aslan trusts him now, and so should we.”

Caspian seemed satisfied by her answer, and the two of them turned to follow the rest of the crew.

Coriakin sent the men to eat in the dining hall, and called the kings and queens to his study, urging that they had much to discuss. They of course brought Drinian too.

“What did you mean when you said you made them invisible for their own good?” Lucy asked.

“It seemed the easiest way to protect them… From the evil.”

“You mean the mist?” Edmund asked.

Coriakin opened the door for them all, and gestured for them to go in before him.

“I mean what lies behind the mist,” he said.

Inside, magical star maps covered the ceiling, like a night sky floating there. Books floated as well, like nothing they had ever seen.

Coriakin took a great roll of parchment and unfurled it before them. It was a map, the size of a large rug… but there was some kind of spell upon it, for it looked as real as if they were there themselves. It reminded (Y/N) of satellite images from her world, but far clearer than that, and almost alive in a way. Small clouds even floated a few inches above the map. Along its edges, small depictions of famous battles moved across the page. Even the battle against the White Witch was there.

“That is quite beautiful,” remarked Eustace, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile.

However, his entranced expression instantly vanished when he took notice of the way the others looked at him.

“I mean for a make-believe map of a make-believe world,” he snapped, attempting to regain some of his no-nonsense front.

“There is the source of your troubles,” said Coriakin, and the map moved to focus on a sinister, black cloud upon the water, further east. “Dark Island. A place where evil lurks… It can take any form. It can make your darkest dreams come true.” He carefully looked at each of them in turn as he spoke. “It seeks to corrupt all goodness… to steal the light from this world.”

“How do we stop it?” Lucy asked determinedly.

“You must break its spell,” Coriakin replied. He turned to Edmund and pointed to his scabbard. “That sword you carry… There are six others.”

Edmund leaned in, attentive. “Have you seen them?”

“Yes.”

“The six Lords…” Caspian realized. “They passed through here?”

“Indeed.”

“Where were they headed?”

“Where I sent them,” said the magician, and the map changed again. “To break the spell, you must follow the Blue Star to Ramandu’s Island. There, the Seven Swords must be laid at Aslan’s Table. Only then can their true magical power be released. But beware… You are all about to be tested.”

“Tested?” asked (Y/N). She didn’t like the sound of that. Especially when she was already struggling with her decision to let herself love Caspian.

Coriakin looked at each of them, his face deathly serious. “Until you lay down the seventh sword, evil has the upper hand. It will do everything in its power to tempt you. Be strong. Don’t fall to temptation. To defeat the darkness out there… you must defeat the darkness inside yourself.”

* * *

The magician gave them supplies and rations for the journey when they set off again the next day. With their course now set, for the Island of Ramandu, the crew of the _Dawn Treader_ began with a renewed vigor.

(Y/N) took a moment to speak with Coriakin, one last time, before the long boats set off.

“I wish you the greatest safety on your journey, My Lady,” he said. She had noticed how he addressed her differently than the others. They were “Your Majesty” but he called her the title by which she was known to the stars. It did make her feel at home.

“Thank you, Coriakin,” she said. “But I must admit, I fear what we may find on our journey. Ramandu is a star’s name, I know that in my heart, but he is one whom I have never seen before. His island is so far East… I do not know the Blue Star. And… I am anxious for what may occur at the end of our journey.”

Coriakin looked into her eyes solemnly.

“My Lady…” he began, “Already, the evil seeks to undo you, most of all. For your power is great, but your doubts are many.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I haven’t had a single dream since I’ve arrived… and even before then, there was no dream to signal my return. My powers have been limited… and I fear this darkness is to blame.”

“You saw through the spell upon this island,” he reminded her. “And so I pray you shall see through other dark enchantments. Please, My Lady, heed my words… For there shall be dreams that do not come from Aslan, and there shall be desires which seek to drown you, but you must remain strong. You carry the heart of so many aboard this ship… They will look to you.”

“What can I do, if Aslan is silent?” she asked.

“You must wait, and listen,” he replied. “For if you turn a deaf ear upon silence, you may find that you have missed His softest call.”

(Y/N) didn’t understand exactly what he meant at the moment, but his words gave her heart some small courage, which she would come to cling to in the following weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Be sure to let me know! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	21. Storm Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I haven’t posted since last year! *badum-tss*  
> Alright, now that the dad jokes are out of the way... I hope you enjoy this part! It’s a little different, but uh, yeah. Enjoy!
> 
> *One small section of this chapter contains somewhat mature themes

Not that she would consider herself to be any sort of boastful woman, nor did she think any other Narnian would, but (Y/N) had rather thought that finding the Blue Star to follow to Ramandu’s Island would be quite a simple matter, especially when taking into consideration her particular skill for such a thing. But from that first night, of the day upon which Coriakin had sent them on their way from his island, the skies grew cloudy at dusk, obscuring the Red Lady’s view of her subjects above.

Finding herself all but useless in the moment, she suggested to Drinian that they simply continue to sail to the East. Less of a suggestion than an order, really, though Drinian gently reminded her that he obeyed Caspian’s bidding first and foremost.

“Forgive me, Your majesty,” he had said. “You are the Highest of the Old Narnian rulers, but as Captain of this ship, I am sworn to the Narnian King of _our_ world, above all else.”

Though surprised, (Y/N) nodded. “Of course… I understand.”

Caspian, however, dismissed the Captain’s rigid formality.

“Nonsense, Drinian. If you are to take anyone’s word above mine, it should well be the Resilient Queen.”

(Y/N)’s face flushed with heat, but by Caspian’s brilliant smile, he certainly didn’t notice her small moment of shyness.

Off to the side, she thought she saw Edmund’s expression change in some sort of funny way, but the thought quickly slipped from her mind at Caspian’s offered arm.

“If I may,” he said, “The crew have finished preparing a private place for you in the general quarters. You shan’t have to sleep on the floor of the cabin any longer. If you’d like to walk with me…”

A small giggle escaped her, in a sort of giddy happiness she’d scarcely felt since the Golden Age, and she gracefully looped her arm through the crook of his elbow.

“Lead the way, my King.”

He showed her to the crew’s quarters, a large room below deck with many hammocks, and a few porthole windows scattered about. The support beams above were intricately carved in the shapes of Narnian Birds. Off in one corner, where the fewest hammocks hung nearby, a large, thick curtain had been hung.

(Y/N) gently pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the small alcove that had been made for her; as private a space as possible, set aside for her in the crew’s quarters. The curtain formed the space into a sort of triangular shape, with one interior wall, and an outer wall with one of the small windows as well. Parallel to the curtain, a hammock had been strung up in the very corner. Below it, a small chest sat, presumably for any sort of items she might otherwise have stored in the dresser up in the cabin.

“I hope it is to your satisfaction…” Caspian said, sounding almost shy.

She turned to him with a warm smile.

“It’s wonderful, Caspian. Thank you,” said (Y/N).

He practically beamed at her words.

“You are most welcome,” he said. Then, almost as an afterthought, or perhaps without thinking at all, he added, “And should you need anything at all, I shall be right over here.”

He gestured to the hammock nearest to her curtained-off corner.

Of course, all of the crew’s hammocks had seemingly been pushed back in favor of allowing her as much room and privacy as possible, but Caspian’s hammock was the one that dared to be nearest.

Color rose in his cheeks as he seemed to realize the forwardness of his own words, and the two of them stood in silence for a moment.

“It’s wonderful, Caspian,” said (Y/N), breaking the silence. “Truly. You and the crew have gone to such great lengths for me. In all honesty, it’s almost too much to accept.”

Her joking tone seemed to release him from his embarrassment, and he returned her small smile.

“I shall leave you to settle in, then,” Caspian said. “Good night, (Y/N).”

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and moved to the other side of the curtain once more.

* * *

The next day continued in much the same manner, as the clouds above remained and grew heavier. No rain came as of yet, but Drinian had begun to worry.

(Y/N), feeling useless without a visible night sky, resolved to acquaint herself with the crew for as long as this sky persisted. Some of the men, she learned with much surprise, had fought at Miraz’s side at the How. Reformed they were now, and each of them expressed the deepest sorrow at what had been done at their hands. The Queen, of course, dismissed their worries at once. Those days had long passed, and she could see their hearts and loyalties now lay true with Caspian.

Edmund and Lucy told her all about what had happened in the time that had passed for them. (Y/N) found herself distracted at times, however, wondering if she ought to tell what she knew. For the moment, she decided, it would be best to remain silent on the matter. As for the youngest of their family, well…

Eustace, though seemingly resigned to his fate of remaining in Narnia, appeared no more agreeable to the notion of being aboard the _Dawn Treader_ than he had been upon his arrival. And yet, that did not stop (Y/N) from continuing to befriend him. His surprising acceptance of their relation made him far more open to her words of wisdom and advice than he seemed to be with any other, except for perhaps Reepicheep.

Any time he might let her, she regaled him with tales of the Golden Age, of the adventures she and the others had had. Most of which, he scoffed at, of course, especially those involving Edmund as a light-hearted, joking young diplomat, but still, there lingered in his eyes a sense of curiosity, she noticed.

And so, the next days passed, somewhat dreary, as the sky remained marbled and dark. Uneventful, for the most part.

Then the storm came. And with it, brought most terrible things indeed.

* * *

For fourteen days, the rain poured. Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and waves crashed into the ship without ceasing. (Y/N) stood alongside Caspian and Edmund and the rest of the crew as they worked with all their might to keep the ship from being pulled under.

Though the storm did not let up, there came a slight lull in its intensity, and Caspian seized the moment to pull Drinian aside for a conversation. (Y/N) sat by his side at the window of the small chart room, watching the waves crash.

“So,” Drinian began, “We’re stranded here, at half-rations, with food and water for two more weeks, at the most generous estimate. This is your last chance to turn back, Your Majesties.”

(Y/N) looked to him sharply.

“But we can’t!” she said. “We’ve been charged with this quest, and we must see it fulfilled.”

Drinian’s expression seemed sympathetic, but he shook his head. “There’s no guarantee we’ll spot the Blue Star any time soon. Not in this storm. It’s a needle in a haystack, trying to find this Ramandu place. We could sail right past it and off the edge of the world.”

“Or get eaten by a sea serpent,” Edmund quipped.

The other three stared at him.

“I’m just saying, the men are getting nervous,” Drinian continued. He glanced at (Y/N) once more as he rounded the table. “And without any dreams from you to guide us, there’s nothing more we can do. These are strange seas we’re sailin’, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.”

(Y/N) had no reply, slightly stung by his remark about her lack of dreams. That remained rather a sore subject for her.

Caspian, however, stood to face him.

“Then perhaps, Captain, you would like to be the one to explain to Mister Rhince that we’re abandoning the search for his family.”

He stood and leaned close to Drinian from across the table, watching him intently.

The Captain sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll get back to it,” Drinian said in a gentler tone. He turned and began to put on his coat. “Just a word of warning,” he added, suddenly, “The sea can play nasty tricks on a crew’s mind. Very nasty.”

With that, he put up his hood and walked out into the storm once more.

Caspian turned to (Y/N), who still sat by the window, watching the roiling waters with a vacant expression. He exchanged a glance with Edmund, who nodded in return and left after Drinian to give the two of them some privacy.

“Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. “Drinian was out of order, making that remark.” He moved as if to rise again. “I ought to have a word--”

(Y/N) took his hands in hers, stopping him.

“Caspian, it’s alright. Leave the Captain be.” She sighed. “He’s not wrong, you know. I feel rather useless… I still haven’t had a single dream. It makes me feel as if… as if there’s something _wrong_ with me.”

She refused to meet his gaze, but Caspian was not deterred. He gently turned her face towards him and offered her a resolute expression.

“Listen to me, my love,” he said firmly, “There is nothing wrong with you. If you do not dream, it is because Aslan wills that you do not.”

“But Caspian, what if this darkness is _keeping_ Him from--”

He shook his head, and she cut her words short with a sigh.

“I suppose you’re right… Of all people, I ought to know best what Aslan can and can’t do, and I suppose that if He can take me back from even the grasp of Death, he certainly ought to be able to do anything else.”

Caspian squeezed her hand. “It won’t do to dwell on His reasonings, (Y/N). You’ll only succeed in driving yourself mad with all the possibilities.”

That did pry a laugh from her, however small, and Caspian smiled at the sound.

“Come now,” he said, standing, “It’s time for us to take some rest. The other crew members who’ve been sleeping are ready to work their shift.”

(Y/N) got to her feet, keeping hold of his hand.

“Perhaps I’ll dream tonight,” she sighed.

If she had known then what sort of dreams she would have, she might have hoped to remain without.

* * *

_Something felt very wrong here. Part of her wanted to ignore the nagging feeling, but it refused to be silenced._

_Caspian was holding her. That in itself would not be such an extraordinary thing, had it not been for the matter of the particular circumstances._

_The two of them were rather… entwined. Far closer than would ever be proper. And they were in bed._

_Her shift had slipped down one shoulder, though still covering her, and Caspian was kissing her neck. His own clothes were loose, the lacing on his shirt undone to the point that she could see nearly the entirety of his chest._

_The part of her that knew something was amiss made her pull away._

_“This isn’t right.”_

_Caspian laughed and cupped her face._

_“What do you mean, my love? We’re together… What could possibly be wrong?”_

_And then it struck her._

_“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”_

_Reality came rushing back, and her confusion only intensified. The first dream she’d had in Narnia, and this was it?_

_The dream-Caspian hummed in affirmation._

_“It is a dream,” he said. “But is it not a good one?”_

_He moved to kiss her, but a cold feeling filled the pit of her stomach and she stopped him._

_“This dream is not from Aslan.”_

_“No,” said the spectre, the false Caspian, “But when has Aslan sent you a dream that held good tidings? Perhaps my visions are better suited for you…”_

_(Y/N) pulled away from him and stood._

_“What are you?” she demanded. “Why have you come to me?”_

_The false Caspian watched her with a half-smirk that was so filled with want, so unlike_ her _Caspian that it made her shudder._

_“I’ve merely come to give you what you want,” he said._

_She laughed dryly. “You think_ this _is what I want?”_

_“Isn’t it?” He still watched her with that look… “You want a man destined to marry another… Why not have him however you can?”_

_“I love him more than I_ want _him,” (Y/N) snapped._

_The impostor studied her, and she felt herself chill under its gaze._

_“Why should you have to pine for him?” the false Caspian asked. “To watch him slip through the grasp of your love as he gives his heart to another? Your vision needn’t be fulfilled, (Y/N)…”_

_“…What would you have me do?”_

_The pretender motioned her to sit beside him, at the edge of the bed._

_She hesitated, but slowly joined him._

_“These seven swords… Very nasty business… Why should you and your King have to journey to the edge of the world to defeat this darkness? Aslan could do it Himself, if He wished… Yet He asks this of you, this impossible task… And now, all of your crew is in danger.”_

_He held her gaze, but as she looked into the eyes of this thing, this hollow imitation of the man she loved, she saw no warmth. Only a cold void._

_“All you need do is turn the ship around… Go home, rebuild Cair Paravel… Rule at his side as in the days of old.”_

_He was so very close to her now, a closeness she might have found comforting if it had truly been her Caspian._

_(Y/N) scoffed. “And leave the mist to cover all of Narnia in darkness? I think not. I shall find Aslan, and He will be the one to tell me what I may or may not be to Caspian.”_

_The dream Caspian chuckled. “Then I can only hope that you do not encounter the one he is truly destined for… You never know who you might meet here, at the furthest East one may go.”_

_Icy claws dug into her heart at that notion, but she pushed her own feelings aside._

_“Enough of this. You will not turn me against Aslan. Begone now!”_

_His eyes hardened further, if that were possible, and he stood._

_“You think your mind is made, but your tune shall change, mark my words. You will witness the price of this journey… and when you watch the man you love fall prey to the darkness, you might consider heeding my words. Turn this ship about, or suffer.”_

_He turned away, and a green mist filled the corners of her vision, clouding her sight and her mind, closing in, choking her._

_The mist suddenly dissipated, and (Y/N) found the false Caspian and herself were now in the Telmarine courtyard, the place where she had died._

_“No…” she whispered. She shook her head sharply. “You cannot scare me with this. I’ve made my peace with this place.”_

_The imitation of Caspian held out the bolt of a crossbow, studying it coldly._

_“Forgive me if I’m disinclined to believe you,” he said with a laugh._

_The site of her old wounds began to sting and burn with pain, but (Y/N) fixed him with a glare. “Give up this charade. This is the doing of the mist, and I cannot be swayed by it. I am the Lady of the Stars and the Seer of Narnia. I am the Oracle of Aslan, and you hold no power over me. Now begone!”_

_The false Caspian stepped close to her, cupping her face the way the real Caspian so often did, but (Y/N) maintained her sharp glare._

_“This is only the beginning, (Y/N). You may not fall under this power… but he will. And you will witness his undoing…”_

_He gave her one last cruel smile, then, a vision flashed in her mind, of Caspian in her place, struck with three arrows, lying on the cold cobblestone._

_Then, everything dissolved into green mist._

She awoke with Caspian’s name on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	22. Deathwater Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s something! I hope you enjoy it! I sort of went off the rails towards the end there lol.

_“I’m leaving, Caspian. I’m going back to my world. Save your love for someone else.”_

_“(Y/N), please,” he begged. “Don’t do this… Do not abandon me here. What if you never return? This would be the last that I see of you.”_

_“And I would be glad for it! Goodbye, Caspian.”_

_He reached out for her, but she slipped through his fingers, like mist._

_The dream swirled and changed, as if he were caught in a storm. This time, he was back at the castle, and (Y/N) knelt on the floor of the throne room, crying. They were alone._

_“How could you, Caspian?” she sobbed, her whole body heaving with the force of her grief. “I loved you… I still love you! I gave my heart to you, and you married her…”_

_“What?” he asked. “My love, I could never… I swore to you.”_

_With tears upon her face, her eyes grew cold as she continued to cry. “Your word means nothing to me! Your actions say all that words deceive about… I should have left when Aslan gave me the chance! I could be in my own world!”_

_Caspian knelt in front of her._

_“(Y/N), I beg of you, do not say such things. Narnia is your world, Narnia is your home…”_

_“I would rather be alone and imprisoned in my world than trapped here with all my family gone and naught but heartbreak to keep me company.”_

_“I could never love another. You and you alone hold my heart.”_

_She looked him dead in the eye._

_“Maybe not yet, Caspian, but there will be. You never know who you might meet here, at the furthest East one may go…”_

_Caspian recoiled at her words. Whatever this was before him, he realized, had to come from the mist. It had dropped its pretense that the dream was real, and now it showed its true face. And yet… its words clutched at his heart with icy talons of fear. (Y/N)’s vision of his wedding… this thing knew who he was destined for._

_He shook his head sharply._

_“I will never abandon (Y/N).”_

_“You already have,” said the thing, the wicked thing that was taking her form. “Don’t you remember?”_

_Mist swirled around her chest, and when it vanished, the three crossbow bolts which had slain here were embedded in her flesh once again._

_“You went after Miraz, Caspian. You were the one who didn’t open the gate in time… The one who lost us the element of surprise… And did you stop to find your little lover before you left? No… You left without me.”_

_Caspian stepped back._

_“You are not her,” he said, though his voice trembled._

_“You’re the reason I died, Caspian,” the shadowy (Y/N) spat. “I may not bear the scars any longer, but they still take their toll on me… Why would I ever choose to stay with you? You’re only going to break my heart anyways… and even if you didn’t, you’d only succeed in getting me killed again.”_

_“Stop this!” he shouted, turning away from the sight of those dreaded arrows._

_The shade simply laughed._

Caspian woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. He found Edmund and, to his surprise, Lucy, staring at him, concern written on their faces.

“I can’t sleep…” admitted Lucy.

Edmund exchanged a glance with Caspian, who still felt himself reeling from the dream he’d had.

“Let me guess,” Edmund said flatly, “Bad dreams.”

By the look on his face, Lucy and Caspian weren’t the only ones.

“So either we’re all going mad…” he continued, “Or something is playing with our minds.”

At that moment, thunder crashed outside, and (Y/N)’s voice suddenly cried out.

“Caspian!”

He had left his hammock before Edmund and Lucy even had a chance to register the shout. Pulling aside the curtain without hesitation, he found her, sitting upright, a desperate look in her eyes.

Her gaze fixed on him, and she leapt from her hammock, throwing herself into his arms.

“It’s alright…” he said in what he hoped was a soothing manner, though he himself was rattled. “I’m here…”

Edmund and Lucy came into the alcove on his heels.

In a startling display of vulnerability, (Y/N) sobbed and grasped his night shirt in her fists, her hands shaking from the intensity of her grip.

Caspian held her tight, at a loss as to how to help her when he was in the same state of mind. She clung to him, and he looked to the other two, helplessly.

Lucy stepped closer and gently touched (Y/N)’s shoulder.

“It’s alright… it was just a dream.” An uncomfortable pause lingered. “The rest of us have had them too…”

Ever so slowly, (Y/N) lifted her face, her eyes heavy with distress, reminding Caspian too much of how she had cried in his dream.

“The mist is playing with us… It’s telling us lies,” she said firmly, though it almost seemed as if she were attempting to convince herself.

Caspian glanced at the other two.

“Would you give us a moment of privacy?”

A shadow passed over Edmund’s face, but he nodded to Lucy, and the two of them slipped out.

Caspian turned to (Y/N), gently taking her face in his hands.

He didn’t speak, at first, his attention fixed solely on the fact that she stood here before him, safe in his arms; not crying on the floor of the throne room or lying dead in the How.

When he had finally gathered some courage enough to speak, she moved away from him.

“It’s alright,” she muttered. “I’m alright. Go back to sleep, Caspian.”

She turned away from him, towards her hammock once more, but he grabbed her arm.

“(Y/N).”

She didn’t look at him.

“I love you.”

Still, she did not move. When she spoke at long last, her voice was naught but a whisper.

“For now.”

Stunned by her response, Caspian said not another word. Feeling in a daze, he turned and left her there.

When he finally found slumber again, it was even more restless than before.

* * *

(Y/N) knew the mist had only evil intentions. It was born of darkness, and could only beget more of the same.

And yet…

Its words, the words spoken through the visage of her love, haunted her waking hours. Her mind was consumed by the promise of heartbreak and loss.

_You never know who you might meet here, at the furthest East one may go…_

They would not be safe from that promise until they had reached Aslan’s Country itself. In between there and where they now sailed… Anything could be waiting.

The storm broke after another four days, yet the clouds remained, and the separation from her subjects above only served to dampen her spirits further. The compass only spun when she turned to it for guidance. It seemed that their Fate was to find their own way.

She found a distance growing. Between herself and her family, for she could not bear the guilt of withholding what she knew, and between herself and Caspian for what the dark dream had wrought.

Eustace, however, already knew her secret, and strangely enough, his grim and grumpy skepticism somehow made him seem, to her, immune to her dark perceptions.

“How absurd!” he scoffed, though she could see that he was secretly intrigued. “A Lady, and a noble no less, instigating a duel? Ridiculous!”

(Y/N) laughed, despite herself. “There are many ideals of Narnia and of my time which would likely seem ridiculous to you. But it’s true, I challenged him for it. I wasn’t going to let him get away with insulting my people! Insult me all you like, I can bear it. But no arrogant Telmarine noble is going to make such remarks about the good Narnians! Especially at a peace talk…”

Eustace raised an eyebrow. “And you say cousin Edmund tried to talk you _out_ of resolving things with a duel? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

She shrugged in response.

“There’s a reason Edmund was brought back to Narnia. He still has yet to learn how to apply all that he gains from here to our world. He’s really quite a peacemaker. Edmund the Just, Aslan named him, and for good reason. You’ll meet Edmund the Just before you return, just you wait.”

He didn’t seem to believe her, but he shrugged in acceptance.

“If you say so.”

Around midday, the clouds at last parted to reveal the flat, blue sky. No stars yet to be seen, but (Y/N) took it as a good omen.

The scout spotted an island nearby, and with rations running so thin, they had no choice but to go ashore.

The island was hardly impressive; a barren heap of smoldering rock, and nothing more, and yet it appeared to be their only hope. And, (Y/N) supposed, there might be a chance, however small, that the lords had stopped here as well.

In the longboat, she sat with Eustace while Caspian and Admund rowed with the crew. Across the way, Reepicheep perched upon the bow of the other boat.

“I doubt the Lords stopped here, My Liege!” the Mouse called to Caspian. “There’s no sign of anything living.”

“That may be the case,” said Caspian, “But we ought to see for certain. Once we get ashore, take your men and search for food and water. The four of us will look for clues.”

Beside her, Eustace’s head snapped up, his dour slouch suddenly vanishing.

“Hang on,” he said, “You mean the five of us.”

The four men stopped rowing and turned to stare.

“Come on, please don’t send me back to the rat!” he begged.

“I heard that!” came Reepicheep’s voice.

Eustace scowled and sourly shrank into himself once more as the men resumed rowing.

“Big ears…”

“I heard that too!”

The others chuckled at the exchange and (Y/N) gave him a kind smile, patting his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Eustace, you’ll be alright,” she said, speaking so only he could hear. “You’re just not used to wandering in unfamiliar territory like we are. We don’t know what we’re going to find here. I just want you to be safe, and the best way to ensure that is for you to stay with the crew.” She gave him a conspiratory wink. “And besides, you might find something even more exciting than we will.”

When the boats landed, the four Kings and Queens started off, following what they thought might have been the most likely path for any of the lords to take.

(Y/N) waved to Eustace as she went.

When they had gone, Eustace looked quickly around at the other crew members as Reepicheep organized them into groups. No one seemed to pay him any mind at that moment… He turned and walked away. Perhaps his cousin was right. He might find something wonderfully exciting.

* * *

They walked along the barren rocks for what felt like ages, until at last, they came upon an opening in the ground. It seemed to lead into a deep cavern.

“Look,” said Caspian, pointing to a rope which had been secured to a boulder for climbing down. “We’re not the first ones on this island.”

“The Lords?” Edmund asked.

“Could be…” Caspian picked up a rock and tossed it down into the hole.

The four of them listened to it clatter all the way down.

“What do you think could be down there?” Caspian wondered aloud.

“There’s only one way to find out,” (Y/N) said. “I’ll go first.”

“No,” said Caspian, a little too quickly. When she gave him an odd look, he continued, “Let me.”

Edmund glanced between them and half-rolled his eyes.

“ _I’ll_ go first,” he said, and he grabbed ahold of the rope and began to climb before any of them could protest.

When he seemed to reach the bottom safely, the others followed. First (Y/N), then Caspian, and finally, Lucy.

The moment (Y/N)’s feet touched the ground, her skin prickled, like icy bursts of lighting across her body. Something about this place did not sit right with her. She had a feeling that prickling was indicative of magic… and likely not of Aslan’s kind.

With every inch of her being on high alert, she looked around with the others. Just beside where they had come down from, there lay a large pool of water.

Edmund stared down into it, a curious expression on his face.

“What’s that?” Caspian asked, walking over with (Y/N) and Lucy close behind.

“I don’t know,” said Edmund. “It looks like some sort of gold statue.”

“I wonder how deep it is,” (Y/N) said. “There’s something about this pool… I think there’s more than meets the eye.”

Edmund nodded slowly, mulling over her words, before he turned to look around them. Spying a dead root still clinging to the wall, he reached over and pried one of the branches away. It came from the wall with a _crack_ , and he turned towards the pool once more with it in hand.

Carefully, he dipped the branch into the water, down towards the statue. After a moment, the bits of the branch that had touched the water began to turn to gold. It didn’t simply end there, however. Before their very eyes, the gold spread up the branch, creeping closer to Edmund’s hand, until the weight of solid gold combined with the fear of strange magic forced him to drop it into the pool.

The four of them exchanged glances, wondering exactly what they had just stumbled upon.

(Y/N) stared down at the figure in the water, a sick feeling rising in the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t think that’s a statue,” she said quietly.

Caspian stepped closer to the pool. “He must have fallen in…”

“Poor man…” said Lucy.

“You mean poor _Lord_ ,” Edmund corrected, eyeing the shield in the water.

“The crest of Lord Restimar,” Caspian confirmed.

“And his sword,” said (Y/N), pointing it out. “We’ve got to get it… Be careful not to touch the water.”

Edmund looked around them for another branch, but the cave was now barren. Instead, he drew his sword and approached the pool. Caspian took hold of his wrist as he knelt, keeping him counterweighted so that he wouldn’t lose his balance.

“Your sword hasn’t turned to gold,” Lucy noted as Edmund used his blade to delicately fish the other out of the water.

“Both of these swords are of Old Narnian make,” said (Y/N). “Imbued with magical properties. It’s likely they’re immune to any ill effects.”

Caspian took Lord Restimar’s sword from Edmund and studied it. Meanwhile, Lucy moved closer to the pool, staring down at the statue with a look of pity.

“He mustn’t have known what hit him…”

“Maybe…” said Edmund. “Or maybe he was onto something.”

That cold, electric feeling intensified for (Y/N), as if the very air she breathed crackled with sparks of magic.

“What are you talking about?” asked Caspian, but his voice sounded far away, as if through a tunnel.

(Y/N)’s heart began to beat faster, the rush of her own pulse filling her ears.

Edmund picked a shell from the nearby rubble and dipped it into the water carefully, setting it on the ground to let the goldwater’s power work. When it had gone solidly gold, he picked it up once more.

“What are you staring at?” asked Lucy, the concern rising in her voice.

“Whoever has access to this pool…” said Edmund, his voice sounding distant and cold, “Could be the most powerful person in the world… Lucy, we’d be so rich… No one could tell us what to do, or who to live with.”

The compass on (Y/N) belt suddenly burned, as if it might catch on fire at any moment. The relic, which has been silent until now, demanded her attention. She put a hand to her side, her heart pounding.

“You can’t take anything out of Narnia, Edmund…”

Caspian’s voice and words should have been soothing, but something was wrong… very, _very_ wrong.

“Says who?”

“I do.”

The taunts of the false Caspian from her dream rang in her head.

Edmund stood, facing Caspian with his sword in hand.

“I’m not your subject.”

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? To challenge me, you doubt my leadership!”

“You doubt yourself! You’re perfectly happy to defer to (Y/N)’s knowledge when you’re too cowardly to take charge of your own crew!”

“You’re a child.”

“And you’re a spineless sap!”

“Edmund--”

Lucy tried to intervene, but Edmund pushed her away.

(Y/N) felt frozen in place, frozen by fear, and by the overwhelming notion of darkness in the air.

“I’m tired of playing second fiddle!” Edmund declared. “First it was Peter, and now it’s you! And that’s hardly the worst of it. It’s the sickening way you treat (Y/N), the way you’re using her, as if you own her! Always asking for a minute alone, always asking for privacy. _We’re_ her family, you’re just the man who’s destined to marry another woman, keeping her around for your own selfish desires!”

Caspian’s eyes narrowed.

“If you think you’re so brave… prove it!”

He shoved Edmund back, and in the next moment, their swords met with a harsh clanging of metal.

(Y/N) knew she ought to be concerned, that she ought to say something sto stop all of this nonsense, but the prickling of magic was nearly suffocation at this point, the compass nearly burning her skin.

She tore it from her belt and threw it open. Beside her, she could hear Lucy speaking sharply to Caspian and Edmund, but the words faded in the background.

The needle pointed right to the pool.

Ignoring the other three, she stepped forward, trying to set aside her fears about her dream coming true, of the mist being right.

She came to the very edge of the water, and still the needle pointed true. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a presence, not of darkness, but… remarkably like Aslan. Though she did not hear His voice, she felt His will.

And so, she stepped into the pool.

Her foot landed securely on a little rocky shelf in the water, like a step into a large bath. Where the water touched her, the uncomfortable prickling in her skin suddenly ceased and calmed.

“Let’s just get out of here…”

Lucy’s voice suddenly came back into focus.

Then, it seemed that the others took notice of what she had done.

“(Y/N)! Caspian shouted, and she heard footsteps rushing towards her.

“Stand back,” she commanded sharply, holding her hand out to stop them. “And trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Though she couldn’t see them, she took the silence as a sign that they were listening.

Where the gold had spread and consumed the other objects, thus far, it had not seemed to touch her at all.

She glanced down at the compass. Its arrow still pointed true, further into the pool. (Y/N) inhaled slowly, deeply, attempting to steel herself. Without turning to face the others, she set the compass down on the rocks and removed her sword belt, laying aside anything that might weigh her down, and brought her other foot onto the step.

Again, the crackle of magic faded, almost soothed by these deathly waters.

Down at the bottom of the pool, something shining. Not something gold, however. That, she decided, must be her calling.

Another deep breath… and she dove fully into the pool.

As the water washed over her, she felt oddly calm. Where poor Lord Restimar had been turned to solid gold, she remained untouched, no doubt by Aslan’s power.

Before, the prick of dark magic had stung across her skin, but the soothing wash of a different kind of Magic covered her now. It all at once felt like plunging into ice water and bathing in fire. It made her feel alive.

She dove down to where the object shone, though the light grew scarce. Whatever it was, she extended her hand to grab it and, once it had been secured, propelled herself back to the surface. The object fel thin and curved, likely something metal.

Upon resurfacing, she immediately felt hands latching onto her arms, pulling her from the water. They still remained careful not to touch the pool itself.

Once she found herself sitting on solid ground once more, (Y/N) finally faced the others.

All three of their faces were written with worry.

“I’m alright,” she said, looking down at her drenched form. “The water that’s clinging to me has no power anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” said Lucy, grabbing her shoulder worriedly. “What’s going on?”

(Y/N) looked down at the object in her hands, and whatever words she’d had died on her lips.

Lucy followed her gaze. “Is that--?”

A circlet of inky black metal, inlaid with scattered diamonds rested in her grasp.

“My crown…” said (Y/N), her voice scarcely more than a whisper. “From the Golden Age…”

“What’s it doing here?” asked Edmund, though his voice was dull, from embarrassment, worry, or shame, (Y/N) did not know which.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, “But it’s a sign. Even in such a dark place… Aslan is still with us.” She looked around the cavern, then down at the pool. “We should leave… Sign or not, this place still breeds wickedness.”

She gave a meaningful glance to both Edmund and Caspian. The two of them briefly looked at each other, both seeming too ashamed to say much of anything.

(Y/N) took up the things she had set aside, then, together, they silently left the cavern, retracing their steps to join the crew at the shore once more.

All the while, the thought of what she had found, of the sign she had received, weighed heavily on (Y/N)’s mind, as she couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	23. Signs of Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a filler part, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy! It’s been a stressful week lol.

When they at last rejoined the crew at the beach, still none of them had said a word. The men had a few baskets set before the boats, but they looked to be mostly empty.

“What food did you find?” asked Caspian.

Rhince looked up at him apologetically.

“It’s volcanic, Your Majesty,” he said. “Not much grows.”

(Y/N) walked over Reepicheep, her crown heavy in her hands. She glanced around at the crew, pausing when something felt off. It took her a moment to realize, but when she did…

“Where’s Eustace?” she asked.

Lucy looked around for him too.

Reepicheep sighed. “I believe he’s out _not_ helping us load the boats.

(Y/N) turned to him with a frown. “You have no idea where he went? Didn’t anyone see him go?”

“Eustace!” Lucy called, looking around.

“He doesn’t understand our world,” (Y/N) said with worry, looking at the crew. “He could be hurt, or worse. Didn’t I tell you at Coriakin’s Island not to forget to think of him?”

She turned away before she could see their reactions and called out for the youngest member of her family.

Lucy exchanged a worried glance with her, then turned to their brother.

“Edmund, I’ve got a bad feeling…”

Edmund sighed, but scanned their surroundings. “I’ll go find him.”

“I’ll come with you.”

(Y/N) looked to Caspian with surprise.

He didn’t meet her gaze.

She wanted to go along, but with things as tense as they were, she thought it best just to let the two have a moment alone, hopefully to reconcile and not to kill each other.

Lucy and (Y/N) got into the longboats with the crew, and headed back to the ship to await their return. As soon as they made it back on deck, (Y/N) went down to her little alcove, to see if she might glean anything from the crown, which she had assumed lost to time, or pillaged as a Telmarine artifact of conquest, or perhaps even melted down and remade.

And yet…

Here is sat. In her hands.

“What do I do with you, hm?” she said aloud. “Why did Aslan send you to me?”

She turned it over in her hands, thinking of how Edmund used to steal it from her to irritate her, and how she used to chase him down to retrieve it. The way Peter would muss her hair, knocking the crown askew… How Susan would fix her up and make her presentable again.

It brought back so many memories, of the Golden Age most specifically. Of the time she used to rule, with all her family at her side. In the days long ago when she had been older, when she bore scars from battles of lifetimes, evidences of near-brushes with death.

Absently, she reached her hand up to where those scars once lay, brushing her hand over that now-smooth skin. And yet… She found that it was not.

Smooth it had been once, growing up, then scarred in the Golden Age, and then smooth again. Flawless… and now flawed.

Still dripping from her little dip in the pool, (Y/N) thought it might have been her imagination at first, some trick of the magic water. But she looked, checking to see if her mind truly played tricks, and what she saw…

Scars of old.

Both the scars that she had gained from that Fateful battle with the remainder of the White Witch’s minions, and the scars of that true Death the second return, had now made their home in her skin once more.

The magic of that deathly pool had not left her entirely untouched, it seemed, for these old scars, which had been plain upon their original making, now shimmered, faintly, of gold.

She touched her face, her cheek, where an old Golden Age scar had once been. Pulling a mirror from the simple dresser in her alcove, she confirmed once more that her scars, her most permanent keepsakes of the past, had been returned to her.

Strangely enough, she found that it did not grieve her, or bring her pain. Rather… she felt comforted by it. These relics of the past, her scars and her crown, seemed to ground her in Narnia, making her wonder if, perhaps, she might not be meant to leave after all. But that did not change what she had seen in her vision, and if it came down to the choice of watching Caspian live his life with another or returning home, perhaps the circumstances that awaited her there did not seem so terrible after all…

There was much on her mind to think about, but for now… she felt oddly at peace with it all, and she resolved simply to leave these wonderings to Aslan. The Great Lion would not make plans for her doom, she decided, and that was enough for her.

(Y/N) took the crown and gently placed it into the bottom drawer, atop her diary.

Just as she slid the drawer closed, a great roar rang out, and moments later, Drinian’s sharp call for archers drew her quickly to the upper deck once more.

As soon as she had blinked away the brightness of the midday sun, she saw a blur of color, a dark shape streaking past the railing. It settled overhead, clutching at the mast, and that was when she realized.

A dragon.

Drinian gave the order to fire, and crossbow bolts sliced through the air. The dragon flinched, but didn’t move. (Y/N) caught sight of Reepicheep, running up along the mast, and when the Noble Mouse drove his sword into its hand, the beast finally flew away…

Right back towards the island, where Caspian and Edmund still searched for Eustace.

Moments later, the dragon swooped back around to the boat.

This time, however, it had a familiar figure clutched in its grasp.

“Edmund!” Lucy shouted.

“No, Edmund!” (Y/N) cried, alarmed at seeing their brother captured by the beast. She rushed to the railing, but there was nothing she could do.

“Lucy! (Y/N)!” Edmund called back to them, fighting the creature’s grip as it once again circled around towards the island.

(Y/N) looked at Drinian.

“We must return to shore at once!” she said.

“Your Majesty, I--”

“Caspian isn’t here right now, Captain,” she reminded him. “That means I’m in charge, and we’re going to get my brother back from this beast.”

Drinian watched her with an unreadable look. Though she couldn’t be certain, (Y/N) thought it held some small hint of respect.

“Aye, My Lady,” he said. “All able hands to the longboats! All ashore to save the High King!”

When they arrived at the shore, a most peculiar sight awaited them. Caspian stood upon the beach, alongside, to their surprise, Edmund. And, even more surprising, the dragon itself.

(Y/N) rushed over to her brother, sword drawn.

“What happened? Are you alright?” She eyed the dragon warily, the crew at her back.

“I’m fine,” Edmund reassured her, pulling her into an embrace. “The dragon won’t attack… it’s Eustace.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, and turned her attention to the great beast.

“Eustace?”

The dragon snorted, seeming as ashamed as a large, scaly creature could.

“Oh Eustace, what happened?” she asked, sheathing her sword as she approached him. She reached up and cupped his giant face in her hands. “Didn’t I tell you to stay with the crew, you silly thing?”

He snorted again, a little indignantly, but didn’t pull away from her touch.

“To tell you the truth, it’s really a relief to find him this way,” said Caspian. “We found his clothes and things half charred among a dragon’s hoard and feared him dead.”

Eustace rumbled and offered his arm up to (Y/N). There, she saw a golden bracelet, warped by heat and digging into his skin. He shook his arm, then bit at the bracelet and dragged it along the ground, demonstrating that it was thoroughly stuck.

“He must have been tempted by the treasure,” Edmund said.

“Anyone knows a dragon’s treasure is enchanted,” said Caspian. At a sharp look from (Y/N), he added, “Well anyone from here, that is…”

“Lucy,” (Y/N) called, “Come help me with this.”

Each of the girls grasped onto either side of the bracelet and together managed to wrestle it off of poor Eustace’s arm. He gave a pained roar as it came free, but the boy did not reappear. The dragon still remained.

“Is there any way to change him back?” Edmund asked.

Caspian frowned. “Not that I know of…”

They all exchanged worried glances.

“Aunt Alberta will not be pleased…” said Edmund.

“Sorry about the hand, old boy,” Reepicheep spoke up. “I can be a little overzealous sometimes…”

Just then, the booming voice of Tavros called out, “The boats are ready sire!”

Lucy looked to Caspian pleadingly. “We can’t just leave him here alone…”

“Well we can’t bring him on board, Your Majesty,” said Drinian.

Caspian took a moment to think.

“Drinian, you and the others take one boat back,” he ordered. “The rest of us will stay here til morning and… work out what to do.”

“But you’ve no provisions,” Rhince protested. “No means of staying warm, Your Majesty.”

Beside (Y/N), Eustace suddenly spewed a burst of fire from his mouth, setting fire to a dry log on the beach.

Reepicheep chuckled. “You were saying?”

There were a few chuckles as Eustace flicked his tongue, trying to get used to the strange sensation of fire breathing.

“I believe that matter is settled then,” said (Y/N). “There’s plenty of driftwood to be found here. I do believe we can manage for one night.”

With a nod, Drinian took the spare crew members back to the ship with him, as the rest of them made camp.

Once the bedrolls had been set and the fire thoroughly stoked, (Y/N) wandered a ways away from the others. Her gaze lingered on the Eastern horizon, wondering what else they might find along the way. In her heart, she knew what lay at the End of the World, for she believed that had been the place she had met Aslan upon her death. But between here and there… at least one island lay in wait, perhaps more. And those islands might be home to civilizations and peoples… Invisible nations of Narnia, never before met, like the Dufflepuds. In some way, she worried for these potential people groups. This far East, if any did exist, there was a chance that they had already been consumed by the Mist.

Whether they found more nations or not, however, (Y/N) hoped with every fibre of her being that Aslan would come to greet them if and when they reached His Country. Surely He would… Then she might be able to find some answers.

“(Y/N)?” came Lucy’s voice.

She turned to face her sister, trying to smile, as not to show her worries.

“Is everything alright? You’ve been so distant lately, and… and everything at the pool today…”

“I…” (Y/N) sighed, trailing off. “I’m sorry, Lucy. There has been much on my mind… I didn’t mean to let it drive any distance between us, though…”

“Is it something you want to talk about?” she asked.

(Y/N) considered it.

“I… lost my grandmother,” she admitted. “And then… other people found out about Narnia, and they tried to… well, I guess the way you would say it in your time would be… they tried to shut me in a madhouse for it. And then, just when I thought they would, I was brought here. But there are other worries here. There’s the matter of my vision… and this darkness upon the land. I have many questions for Aslan… and I’m trying my best to be patient, but it’s just so difficult recently.”

Lucy nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry… about your grandmother.” She took (Y/N)’s hand. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be here, but I promise you that while we are, Edmund and I aren’t going to let you be alone. You’ve seemed happy with Caspian… and vision or not, you mustn’t let this darkness spoil the time you have with him.” She hesitated, not seeming to want to admit her next words to even herself. “I fear that… we all might be in the same situation as Susan and Peter were last time… and if that is the case, I want to make the most of this journey together. It isn’t the same without you, (Y/N), and if this is our last time here… maybe we can convince Aslan to let you return to our time with us, so that you won’t be alone…”

(Y/N) laughed softly, thinking of Susan, and the journey she would come to take in her life.

“I don’t know if that would work very well, Lu,” she said. “But we can certainly try.” She sighed. “But you’re right… we must have hope. Above all else…” She offered a smile. “Come on, let’s rejoin the others. There’ll be plenty of time to worry later, once this darkness is defeated.”

She put her arm around Lucy, and the two of them returned to the fireside.

(Y/N) spent the evening watching the stars. Most, she had never met before, and yet, by some great instinct, she knew them by name. And so, she spoke with them, silently, reading them for any signs, any voice, and single whisper or sign

And they too, said…

_Hope._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen I enjoy this movie, but it’s such a bad film lol. There’s literally one part where there’s like 24 frames of just darkness in between shots. Like. Darkness and no audio. And I can tell it wasn’t an intentional sort of thing because 1. The audio awkwardly cuts off and B. The final note of the score carries over into the next scene when it resumes. Like hello??? Who edited this?? XD
> 
> Anyways, it’s still enjoyable to watch, even if low-quality lol.
> 
> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	24. We Have Our Heading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler? In my fic? It’s more likely than you’d think!
> 
> Jokes aside, this is somewhat another filler part. Next time, we should be arriving at Ramandu’s Island, with all that entails!

(Y/N) felt herself drawn to consciousness. By what, she did not know. Perhaps the exaggerated volume of Eustace’s dragon-snoring, or perhaps the first light of dawn. Nevertheless, she woke, her eyes rising to meet the sky. That’s right… she had fallen asleep watching the stars. With a wistful pang in her heart, she recalled dear Oreius and the dawn upon which he had introduced her to the first star she had ever come to know. Now, here upon another dawn, thousands of years later, though she found herself on the distant shores of an island miles from that valley, (Y/N) couldn’t help but search for Aravir as the moon set.

Instead, another star, one which she had not met before, caught her eye.

“Lucy,” she whispered sharply. “Lucy, wake up!” She reached over and shook her sister’s shoulder. “Caspian, Edmund!” She called the other two as well, hoping to rouse the rest of the group from slumber.

“What is it?” Lucy asked, still half asleep.

“The Blue Star… I’ve found her.”

(Y/N) knew her name, too, from that same instinct by which she knew the names of all the other stars. Lilliandil.

Lucy gasped.

The others all began to wake, each in turn realizing what had drawn the two Queens’ attention.

“It seems we have our heading,” said Caspian. “We should set sail at once.”

Everyone began to pack up the campsite. Caspian spared a brief glance at (Y/N), then seemed to turn away.

Her heart stung. Was she losing him?

_No,_ she told herself. _Whether he is destined for another or not, I daresay he won’t be falling to darkness if I have any say in the matter_.

Resolving to speak with him later, she joined the others in the boat. Reepicheep chose to sit atop Eustace’s large dragon head as he flew. And so, they returned to the Dawn Treader, ready to set off in pursuit of the Blue Star.

* * *

While the crew set to work to sail towards where the Blue Star awaited in the sky, (Y/N) went to talk with Edmund. Some of the things he had said at the pool had been echoing in her mind.

When she finally caught up with him, she found him sitting by himself in some deserted corner of a storage hold.

“Edmund,” she called softly.

He lifted his gaze, seemingly drawn from his thoughts.

“(Y/N)...” he said quietly. “Is everything alright? Do they need me on deck?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said. A silence lingered for a moment. Sighing, she moved to sit beside him on the crate he was currently using as a chair.

“Are you alright?” she asked at last. “Yesterday at the pool, you… Well I thought perhaps there might be a few things we ought to discuss.”

Edmund glanced at her with an expression that almost seemed shameful.

“I let it take over me, (Y/N). I couldn’t fight the darkness in that place. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I don’t _want_ you to say anything that you don’t want to,” she replied. “Nor anything that is untrue. I didn’t come to admonish you, Edmund. I don’t want there to be any secrets or shame between us.”

He held her gaze for a moment.

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said resolutely, after a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I worry for you, (Y/N). I want you to be happy, and if that means being with Caspian, I’m certainly not going to discourage you… but I can’t help but think of your vision. If it’s true that he’s going to take another woman for his wife, then how can you ask me to stand by and watch him break your heart?”

She said nothing.

“And…” he continued hesitantly, “Perhaps I’m also jealous. Or envious, I suppose… of how much time you spend with him. This is our only time with you too, it isn’t just Caspian who can only see you in this world. I don’t want to look back on this journey years from now, only to be filled with regret.” He looked at her earnestly. “If this is where we say goodbye, I want to make the most of the time we have together.”

“Lucy said much the same,” (Y/N) replied quietly. Then, she gave a long sigh, thinking carefully on his words. “I’m sorry, Edmund… I didn’t mean to put so much distance between us. It’s difficult now… being older than you. It feels different than it used to. And I miss it… But I know things now, Edmund. Things that if you knew… might change everything further. And that is the last thing that I want…”

Edmund took her hand in his and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“I was always the one you told the things you couldn’t bear to say to the others… and though I hate to bring it up, the last time you didn’t confide in me, you did sort of die…”

The two of them shared a soft laugh, but soon sobered.

“It’s… It’s complicated, Edmund,” (Y/N) said.

She let a long silence linger, as she tried to decide if she ought to tell him or not.

“Susan was my grandmother.”

Her words came in one rushed breath.

Edmund seemed as though he didn’t quite comprehend her meaning. Perhaps his expression merely meant he was stunned.

“What?”

“My grandmother… on her deathbed, she revealed her true identity to me. I almost didn’t believe it myself… But she said Aslan came to her that first time when I returned from the Golden Age, told her not to tell me until now. All that time… I was connected to Narnia and to all of you more closely than any of us had thought. I suppose some things make more sense now… I always wondered why Jadis’ Captain referred to me as your family. And I suppose I understand why I was a part of the prophecy, why I was brought here in the first place… But I have just as many questions.”

Edmund’s arms closed around her, and he drew her into a tight embrace.

“I don’t know that I have the words to comfort you, or the answers you want,” he said carefully. “But what I do know is this: You’re family, no matter what, do you understand? You always have been.”

She nodded, holding him close.

“When next we see Aslan, He’ll give us some clarity on this, just you wait.”

“If we see Him at all,” said (Y/N) grimly.

“Enough of that,” Edmund chastised lightly.

“Sorry…”

They held each other in silence for a long while.

“About Caspian,” (Y/N) began.

“You don’t have to explain,” said Edmund. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” She took a breath to clear her mind. “I know that I love him. But… I also know that I love him enough to let him go if I need to. I’ve been thinking about this for _years_ , Edmund, and when I saw his face at the pool… both of you fighting, and fighting somewhat over me… I felt so helpless then. I may be a Seer, but… that doesn’t mean I always have all the answers. The Mist has been taunting me in my dreams, trying to make me feel helpless… but maybe that’s alright. Being helpless sometimes, I mean. There are things we just can’t control, no matter how much we may wish. Like the Telmarine invasion. The fall of Narnia, Miraz taking over… We had no say in any of that. But it isn’t always down to just us. Other people have got to make decisions too, sometimes. And maybe there’s nothing I can do, for or about Caspian… but I’m choosing to trust that he has strength of his own.

If I love him, I have to let him stand on his own two feet sometimes. It’s not bad to rely on each other, so long as you don’t become dependent. He’s got to be his own man. And maybe coming into his own strength means he meets someone else who can better help him lead, and I know that would hurt terribly… but I want the best for him. Aslan’s will be done, in the end. That’s all that matters.”

Edmund nodded slowly. “You’re handling it better than I would. If I thought I’d found the love of my life, I don’t know that I’d be strong enough to let her go for her own good… I think it would break me.”

(Y/N) smiled at him fondly. “I don’t think it would, Edmund. You’re a strong young man, and a good king. One little slip up because of dark magic doesn’t undo all of that. You have more strength to you than you can see.”

He gave her a small smile and bumped her shoulder with his.

“I’m glad you believe in me, at least. That’s all I need, really.”

(Y/N) smiled in return, and Edmund put his arm around her in a hug. After a moment, he sighed, and spoke again.

“You should speak with Caspian.” At her questioning look, he continued, “I know I’ve just been saying I’d like to spend more time with you, but… he was affected by the pool too. I think it would do him good to talk with you.” He grinned. “And then maybe come back to spend more time with family, yeah?”

She laughed.

“Alright, alright… Then I will.”

As she stood, Edmund grabbed her hand, and she looked back at him.

“You know I love you, right? I don’t think I’ve said it since the Golden Age… but it’s important to me that you know.”

(Y/N) gave him a small smile. “I know, Ed. And I love you too.”

And then, just to get a reaction from him, she quickly reached to muss his hair before darting away.

“Hey!”

She laughed as she ducked out of his sight… or at least out of range of how far he could throw anything to get back at her.

“I’ll get you for that later!”

“I’m sure you will!”

* * *

She found Caspian alone in the map room. He looked up to see who had entered, but when he realized it was her, he seemed to avoid her gaze.

“Caspian…” said (Y/N), as gently as she could. “Do you have a moment to speak with me?”

He sighed, and she realized… It seemed he thought she was disappointed in him.

“Of course,” he said, though the brightness had gone from his eyes.

“Are you alright?” she asked him. “Things haven’t been easy as of late… and I’m certain what happened yesterday didn’t help matters.”

“Finally spotting the Blue Star has helped to lift the mood on board, at the very least,” he replied.

“Caspian…” (Y/N) said, “Please, don’t avoid my question.”

A long silence weighed upon the space between them before he spoke again, at last.

“Do you think less of me” Caspian asked, “After the pool?”

“No. In fact… I think more highly of you now.”

Caspian sighed and shook his head. “Please, don’t mock me… it wounds me most from you, above anyone else”

(Y/N) moved closer and took his hand in hers. He did not meet her gaze. She cupped his chin in her other hand, guiding him to look into her eyes.

“I am not mocking you, Caspian. I swear it.”

He searched her face for any sign of a lie, but found none, for she spoke from her heart.

“How can that be so? How can you not look at me and see only a weak-willed fool and a coward? How can you see anything but a simple man who does not deserve the title he bears, nor the people over whom he rules?”

“Because that man you describe does not exist.” She saw protest rising in his eyes and continued speaking without giving him a chance to interject. “I see before me a good man. A man who loves his people so much that he took to the seas just to find seven of his subjects. A man who has faced darkness. You may have briefly succumbed, Caspian, but that does not make you unworthy or irredeemable. Do you not remember the legends and myths of Old? How Edmund aided the White Witch herself? Was he then not worthy to rule over the Golden Age alongside the rest of us? No. For he was chosen by Aslan, just as you were. And Aslan does not choose any who are unworthy. So you were taken in by the pool. What does that mean, hm? You were strong enough to heed Lucy’s words, to stay your blade and make peace with my brother. If you truly were the weak, unworthy man you seem to think yourself now, you would not have done so, and one or both of you would be dead now.”

Caspian studied her face still.

“I suppose… I might be able to bring myself to accept that… but the knowledge that you were there to witness it… I am ashamed, (Y/N). I am ashamed, and though you remind me that Aslan will forgive me, my heart does not believe that you will.”

She took his face in both her hands.

“I have seen the darkest side of you, Caspian, and still I love you. I know who you are beneath that darkness. I know your _heart_. And even if your heart shall one day belong to another, know that you shall always have mine, unconditionally.”

At her words, his eyes filled with emotion, and he pressed a kiss to her palm.

“You shall have my heart always, (Y/N).”

She laughed sadly.

“You have not seen the worst of _me_ , Caspian. And if you ever do, I fear you may not be able to live with it.”

Slowly, he reached up to cover her hands, taking them into his own.

“On my life and upon the Stars which you hold most dear, there is nothing that you could say or do, no part of yourself that you could show me that will ever drive me away from you,” he swore.

(Y/N) pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, Caspian…” A long pause lingered, then a sigh. “I don’t know what the future may hold, but I intend to face the East with all the courage I have left. And I should like to be at the side of one of the greatest Kings I have ever known as I face it. What say you, King Caspian?”

Ever so slowly, the faintest hint of a smile made its presence known at the corner of his mouth.

“If the Resilient Queen of Old has such faith in me, then let it be so,” he said. Looking down, he ran a hand over the map he had been poring over. “On we go… to the Utter East.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


	25. How the Needle Spins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for... or maybe dreading... Ramandu’s Island!

They followed the Blue Star with renewed hope. And for two days, all was well. By the dawn of the third day, their troubles returned tenfold.

The wind had left them, halting their progress and stranding them out upon the open sea. The men set to work at the oars, rowing to move the ship by hand, leaving them exhausted by dusk. As such, the _Dawn Treader_ made no progress at night, the precious dark hours needed for the crew to rest.

Three more days passed in this manner.

“We can’t continue on this way,” said Edmund. He, Drinian, (Y/N), and Caspian stood upon the deck, discussing their next course of action while staring up above at the listless sails. “The men won’t last at this pace, and neither will the rations.”

Drinian looked to (Y/N).

“Have the stars given you any word, Your Majesty? Any notion of when we might reach Ramandu’s Island?”

She shook her head. “No exact estimate, I’m afraid, Captain. But we’re close, I know that. We mustn’t give up hope.”

“As much as I agree with your sentiment, (Y/N),” Caspian said, “We’ve no wind in our sails. How are we going to reach the island?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer him, her gaze scanning the deck, then wandering out onto the endless, watery horizon.

“With things the way they are,” she said at last, “I would say that something doesn’t _want_ us anywhere near that island.”

Drinian studied the three of them intently, then spoke.

“We’ll go on as long as we’re able,” he said. “May the Lion save us…” With his piece said, he wandered away from them to take his place at the helm.

The other three exchanged glances. Caspian, especially, watched the two siblings.

“I’m going to study the maps again,” he said. “There isn’t much else I can do.”

He nodded to (Y/N) and Edmund, and left them together.

“Come on,” said Edmund, draping an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s get you below deck. You’ve been out in the sun far too long. Have you had any water at all today?”

(Y/N) let herself be ushered below decks.

“You know he’s giving us some time together,” she said, ignoring her brother’s question. “Caspian, I mean. I did talk to him, but I think he still feels the weight of some of the things you said at the pool.”

“I know what he’s doing,” said Edmund, sitting her down upon a crate. “Now, have you had any water today?”

“It’s rationed,” she replied, again avoiding a direct answer. At his stern look, she sighed. “No… but the crew needs it more than I do. They’re working hard down there.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just go without it entirely,” Edmund said firmly.

It reminded her of the Golden Age, of how he would try so hard to take care of her, despite how close they were in age. Less so than Peter of course, but he cared for her nonetheless.

_“Will you stop being so protective, Ed? We’re practically_ twins _for Aslan’s sake!”_

_“Yes, but I have a beginning-of-year winter birthday and you have a late summer birthday, so I’m really quite a few months older…”_

_“Yes, but_ I _left our world in the early summer and_ you _left our world in the end-of-year winter, so ha! As I said, twins.”_

Indeed, that did used to be quite the source of playful argument between them.

But here in this moment, she didn’t feel like arguing. Perhaps it was a matter of a lack of water, but she let him worry over her.

To make him feel better, she told herself.

But perhaps, in the back of her mind, she knew it was really for the comfort of them both.

“Here.”

He pressed a small cup into her hands, a little bit of water in it. Rationed, but still probably a little extra.

She sipped it slowly.

“Have you told Lucy yet?” he asked, after a long silence.

The water in the cup was not yet half gone. (Y/N) stared into it, thinking deeply, as she watched how the dim light reflected within.

“No,” she admitted at last. “For the most part, only because I don’t know how to. With you, it seemed easy. I’ve always been able to tell you anything.”

He nodded seriously, but then s mischievous look spread over his face. “Like how you fancied that merchant from Anvard?”

(Y/N) spluttered indignantly, grateful she had finished the water by then, or she might have choked.

“Why you--”

“And I never told a soul,” he said quickly, grinning.

She gave him a scowl in return, but couldn’t hold it long.

“Yes, well… anyways…” She sighed. “Lucy is understanding and kind. But we’re about to face Lion-knows-what, here at the End of the World… I don’t want this to weigh on her. It might be best to wait.”

Edmund sighed. “I think you should tell her sooner rather than later…. But I’ll trust your judgement.”

“Thank you.” (Y/N) moved to put the water away. The very moment she had secured everything, the ship lurched as if they’d just run aground, or perhaps had been struck by something.

Edmund and (Y/N) exchanged a glance, then simultaneously rushed up onto the deck together.

“What did we hit?” Caspian was calling to the crew when the two arrived up top.

Edmund looked around, alert for any danger, but then seemed to relax.

“Eustace, that’s brilliant!”

Everyone on deck followed his gaze.

The boy had wrapped his dragon tail around the figurehead and was towing them along behind himself as he flew.

Now, their speed was double, triple, perhaps, the speed they would have with only the wind for aid. Things might not remain so grim after all…

* * *

They reached Ramandu’s Island by that very dusk. It was quite beautiful; a sight for sore eyes indeed. Lush greenery spread across the whole of it, and rocky cliffsides abounded with brilliant, glistening waterfalls.

It reminded (Y/N) somewhat of Cair Paravel, and how she had felt upon first seeing it all those years ago.

By the time the landing party had reached the shore, night had fallen. They found a pathway which led them up from the beach, towards the heart of the island, and all the stars were visible through the treetops as they went. The path soon turned from dirt and grass to ancient stone, passing over bridges and under archways as it led them up, up and in. The rush of small waterfalls and the calling of birds of night accompanied them. Statues of ancient creatures surrounded them.

The others walked with weapons at the ready, but (Y/N)’s remained sheathed. She sensed no danger here, but only an ancient Deep Magic. Not like the magic at the pool, for that had felt jarring and alarming, but rather more like the magic of the Stone Table as it had felt in that very moment when Death itself had reversed, first for the Great Lion, and then for herself.

No, this was nothing dark. This Magic was as old as Time, as old as Narnia itself, and the laws which had been carved in stone by the Emperor Across the Sea. Something here was powerful beyond measure, and (Y/N) knew Aslan’s country was close at hand, for such ancient Magic to be held here on this island.

At last, they came to an archway under a tree, beyond which lay a table, laid out with a feast upon it.

The crew murmured amongst themselves, all of them hungry beyond measure from the lack of rations.

“Food…” murmured Tavros.

“Wait,” Drinian commanded, looking to the Kings and Queens.

(Y/N) ignored the food, for something else had caught her eye. At the furthest end of the table, a thicket of brambles lay, something tangled within. She motioned to Edmund, who followed with his torch in hand.

Edmund recoiled sharply when he saw what lay there. Lucy gasped, and Caspian and the other crew members raised their swords when they too realized.

Three men, still and silent, sat amongst the thicket. (Y/N) gestured calmly to the others and leaned closer.

“(Y/N)...” Caspian said warningly.

“It’s alright, Caspian,” she replied quietly. “They aren’t moving. They seem to be frozen… The magic upon this Table is strong.”

He seemed to relax at her assurances, moving close on the other side of the Table to investigate for himself.

“Lord Revilian,” he realized, staring at a ring upon one of the man’s fingers. It bore the crest of one of the Lords. He found the crests of the others as well. “Lord Marvramorn… and Lord Argoz.”

Lucy came around to the other side of one of the men, slipping through the brambles. She reached out to touch him, then suddenly gasped, jerking back as if she’d been burned.

“He’s breathing!” she exclaimed.

Caspian, Edmund, and (Y/N) leaned closer, and surely enough, the breath of the men still stirred the air, though their eyes remained open and glassy, their bodies unmoving.

“They’re… they’re alive,” said Caspian in disbelief.

Edmund studied the Lords in concern. “They’re under a spell…”

“It’s the food!” said Caspian suddenly.

Tavros, who had an apple at the ready, just about to take a bite, dropped the fruit in shock.

“No, it can’t be,” said (Y/N), and the crew looked to her in askance. “This place has no darkness to it… The Magic here is more akin to Aslan’s kind. There must be some other explanation…”

“Aslan’s magic?” Edmund asked. “Then this must be the Aslan’s Table, just as Coriakin said.”

“Their swords!” Caspian said.

He, Lucy, and (Y/N) quickly collected the blades from each of the sleeping Lords and placed them upon the Table. Edmund added his own as well, and the crew brought to them the others which had been obtained.

“We’re still missing one…” (Y/N) said.

As the three of them stared at the swords, wondering how to find the last, the starlight which reflected in the blades began to glow brighter. Looking up for the source, they could see a star descending from the heavens.

Caspian reached for his blade once more, but (Y/N) put a hand out to him in a placating gesture.

“It’s alright… She’s one of my subjects. There is no need for alarm.”

Even as she spoke, her heart pounded in her ears. She only hoped that Caspian could not see the worry in her eyes.

The star gracefully touched the ground, and the brilliant light dimmed into the form that looked rather human, but the light that emanated from her very being set her apart as a Star.

She smiled at them all.

“Travelers of Narnia…” Her gaze fell upon (Y/N) and she curtsied low, nearly kneeling, before rising again. “My Lady… All of you, welcome.”

The crew all knelt before her. Tavros offered the lowest bow that he could. (Y/N) remained standing, offering a kind smile.

“Hello, Lilliandil,” she said. “You have led us well.”

Lilliandil seemed to glow a bit brighter at that. She opened her arms to the others, gracefully.

“Arise,” she said gently, and the crew obeyed. She looked upon them, her face written with a delicate confusion.

“Are you not hungry?” she asked them.

“Who are you?” Edmund asked.

(Y/N) noticed he was staring at her.

“I am your guide,” she replied.

“My friends,” (Y/N) said, addressing everyone. “You are in the presence of the Blue Star who guided us here. A faithful servant of Aslan, as we all are.”

“Yes, My Lady,” said Lilliandil. “I am who you say I am. Ramandu is my father, and this is his island. I watch over it while he takes rest.”

“You’re a Star?” Caspian asked as the four rulers drew closer. The adoration in his voice made (Y/N) feel ill.

Lilliandil nodded.

“You are most beautiful,” Caspian said.

Edmund looked at him sharply.

(Y/N) looked away.

Lilliandil seemed surprised, looking to (Y/N) with an unreadable expression.

“I-If it is a distraction for you,” she offered, “I could change form…”

“No!”

“No…”

Edmund and Caspian both spoke at once. Edmund, a little more quickly, though he still glared at Caspian.

“No,” Caspian repeated himself, more calmly. “I simply meant to say… I have never met a Star before. All that I know, I have heard from (Y/N)...”

Though she did not look at him, she felt him take her hand. Surprised, she did now turn her gaze upon him.

“Aslan has charged you with the care of these wonderful people. They are strong and beautiful in the way that he has made them… Just as you are strong and beautiful and wise.”

Her face felt as though it were on fire.

Caspian turned to Lilliandil, bowing his head respectfully.

“Please forgive me, I spoke out of turn. I meant merely to compliment your kind, but I fear that I have insulted you for implying any distraction.”

Lilliandil’s smile seemed to brighten once more, now that she no longer feared her natural form was frowned upon, or that she was upsetting the Queen.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to think. For an instant, she’d feared she had lost Caspian. But then to find out he was merely excited to meet a Star, a new Narnian race… She remembered when they had first met, how eager he had been to learn all that he could about each race of Narnians. He had been similarly impressed by the beauty of the Dryads and the grace of the Centaurs.

For a moment, she felt ashamed, for thinking he might truly go back on his word to her, the promises he had made to reassure her doubts.

Then, she wondered what might happen going forward. Perhaps he merely admired her beauty as a Star for now, but what should happen if (Y/N) were to leave Narnia forever? Would he see Lilliandil as more?

His heart belonged to her now, but who would it be given to when she had gone?

And yet… Something about this place gave her peace. Perhaps this place, brimming with Aslan’s Magic, reassured her spirit. Though she couldn’t put her finger on it, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel that there was something she had missed. A simple solution which she simply could not see…

With a start, she realized Lilliandil had been speaking, the candles on the table now alight with magic.

“These poor men were half mad by the time they reached our shores,” she was explaining. “They were threatening violence upon each other… Violence is not permitted at Aslan’s Table, and so… they were sent to sleep.”

“Will they ever wake?” Lucy asked.

Lilliandil nodded. “When all is put right.” Her face grew more serious. “Come, there is little time.”

She turned and led the four Kings and Queen away as the crew settled in and began to eat. They followed her along a small, dirt path, to a stone balcony upon one of the cliffsides.

All the way there, Caspian kept ahold of (Y/N)’s hand.

“The Magician Coriakin told you of Dark Island?” Lilliandil asked.

“Yes,” said (Y/N), “The source of the Mist.”

There, further to the East, but only a short distance from Ramandu’s Island, they saw it. Like a living cloud of black smoke, it hung upon the water like a blight. It seemed to absorb any faint starlight into itself, like a void of Dark Magic.

(Y/N) couldn’t hide a shiver. She could feel the coldness of that Magic from here. It was not at all like the warmth of Aslan’s power which surrounded them here.

“Before long, the evil will spread further. This place will remain safe, sanctified by Aslan’s power, but the lands further West of here will become overrun in time.”

“We’ve brought the seven swords of old,” said Caspian. “The ones that were in our possession, that is. We still lack the final one.”

“Do you know where the seventh is?” Edmund asked.

Lilliandil gave the four a grave look and turned towards the Dark Island.

“You shall find what you seek… in there. You will need great courage, Your Majesties. Now, waste no time. Rest here, and as quickly as you are able, you must complete this task that has been given to you.”

Edmund hesitated.

“I hope we meet again,” he said.

Lilliandil gave him a small smile, one that almost seemed to be shy.

“Goodbye…” she said.

With that, her form began to ripple with wisps of Star light, and her form turned to pure light. She rose to take her spot as the Blue Star once more.

Caspian looked to the other three.

“We should join the crew. Feast at the Table tonight, and at dawn… we face this darkness.”

Edmund and Lucy nodded, and turned to head back to the Table. As (Y/N) moved to follow, she felt Caspian’s hand at hers, gently stopping her.

“You are the one who holds my heart, (Y/N),” he said solemnly. “I shall hold to this word until I die.”

He released her hand and moved past her to follow Edmund and Lucy, leaving her with many spinning thoughts.

“Aslan,” she whispered softly, staring at the Dark Island. “I do not know what Fate you have planned for me, but I can only pray that it is one that keeps me at his side.”

The compass at her side grew warm, and she pulled it from her belt.

When she opened it, it did not direct her towards Dark Island, as she had thought, but rather… the needle pointed down the pathway, to where Caspian had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!


End file.
